SOME 


CHINESE  GHOSTS 


BY 


LAFCADIO    HEARN. 


BOSTON: 
ROBERTS  BROTHERS. 

1887. 


Copyright,  1887, 
BY  ROBERTS  BROTHERS. 


JOHN  WILSON  AND  SON,  CAMBRIDGE. 


o  mg 
HENRY  EDWARD     KREHBIEL, 

THE    MUSICIAN, 

WHO,    SPEAKING    THE    SPEECH    OF    MELODY    UNTO    THE 
CHILDREN  OF  TIEN-HIA,  — 

UNTO  THE   WANDERING   TSING-JIN,   WHOSE    SKINS 
HAVE   THE   COLOR   OF   GOLD,  — 

MOVED    THEM    TO    MAKE    STRANGE    SOUNDS    UPON    THE 
SERPENT-BELLIED    SAN-HIEN  ; 

PERSUADED   THEM   TO   PLAY   FOR    ME   UPON    THE 
SHRIEKING    YA-HIEN  J 

PREVAILED   ON    THEM    TO   SING    ME   A    SONG  OF  THEIR 
NATIVE    LAND, — 

THE   SONG   OF    MOHLI-HWA, 
THE  SONG  OF   THE   JASMINE-FLOWER. 


PREFACE. 


I  THINK  that  my  best  apology  for  the 
insignificant  size  of  this  volume  is  the 
very  character  of  the  material  compos 
ing  it.  In  preparing  the  legends  I 
sought  especially  for  weird  beauty ;  and 
I  could  not  forget  this  striking  obser 
vation  in  Sir  Walter  Scott's  "  Essay  on 
Imitations  of  the  Ancient  Ballad  :  " 
"  The  supernatural,  though  appealing 
to  certain  powerful  emotions  very  widely 
and  deeply  sown  amongst  the  human 
race,  is,  nevertheless,  a  spring  which  is 
peculiarly  apt  to  lose  its  elasticity  by 
being  too  much  pressed  upon? 

Those  desirous  to  familiarize  them 
selves  with  Chinese  literature  as  a  whole 


iv  Preface. 

have  had  the  way  made  smooth  for  them 
by  the  labors  of  linguists  like  Julien, 
Pavie,  Remusat,  De  Rosny,  Schlegel, 
Legge,  Hervey-Saint-Denys,  Williams, 
Biot,  Giles,  Wylie,  Beal,  and  many  other 
Sinologists.  To  such  great  explorers, 
indeed,  the  realm  of  Cathayan  story 
belongs  by  right  of  discovery  and  con 
quest  ;  yet  the  humbler  traveller  who 
follows  wonderingly  after  them  into  the 
vast  and  mysterious  pleasure-grounds  of 
Chinese  fancy  may  surely  be  permitted 
to  cull  a  few  of  the  marvellous  flowers 
there  growing,  —  a  self-luminous  hwa- 
TJUgng,  a  black  lily,  a  phosphoric  rose 
or  two,  —  as  souvenirs  of  his  curious 

voyage. 

L.  H. 

New  Orleans,  March  15,  1886. 


CONTENTS. 


I.  THE  SOUL  OF  THE  GREAT  BELL  ...  9 

II.  THE  STORY  OF  MING-Y 25 

III.  THE  LEGEND  OF  Tcni-Niu 65 

IV.  THE  RETURN  OF  YEN-TCHIN-KING    .     .  89 
V.  THE  TRADITION  OF  THE  TEA-PLANT     .  107 

VI.  THE  TALE  OF  THE  PORCELAIN-GOD  .    .  135 


APPENDIX 163 

NOTES 165 

GLOSSARY ffo 


THE  SOUL   OF   THE   GREAT   BELL. 


She  hath  spoken,  and  her  words  still  resound  in 

his  ears. 

HAO-KHIEOU-TCHOUAN  :  c.  ix. 


CHINESE  GHOSTS. 


THE  SOUL   OF   THE  GREAT  BELL. 

THE  water-clock  marks  the  hour  in 
the  Ta-chung  sz\  —  in  the  Tower  of 
the  Great  Bell :  now  the  mallet  is  lifted 
to  smite  the  lips  of  the  metal  monster, 
—  the  vast  lips  inscribed  with  Buddhist 
texts  from  the  sacred  Fa-hwa-King,  from 
the  chapters  of  the  holy  Ling-yen-King  ! 
Hear  the  great  bell  responding!  —  how 
mighty  her  voice,  though  tongueless  !  — 
KO-NGA1 7  All  the  little  dragons 
on  the  high-tilted  eaves  of  the  green 
roofs  shiver  to  the  tips  of  their  gilded 
tails  under  that  deep  wave  of  sound; 


io       The  Soul  of  the  Great  Bell. 

all  the  porcelain  gargoyles  tremble  on 
their  carven  perches;  all  the  hundred 
little  bells  of  the  pagodas  quiver  with 
desire  to  speak.  KO-NGAI!  —  d\ 
the  green-and-gold  tiles  of  the  temple 
are  vibrating ;  the  wooden  gold-fish 
*above  them  are  writhing  against  the 
sky;  the  uplifted  finger  of  Fo  shakes 
high  over  the  heads  of  the  worship 
pers  through  the  blue  fog  of  incense ! 
KO-NGAI !  —  What  a  thunder  tone 
was  that !  All  the  lacquered  goblins 
on  the  palace  cornices  wriggle  their 
fire-colored  tongues !  And  after  each 
huge  shock,  how  wondrous  the  multiple 
echo  and  the  great  golden  moan  and, 
at  last,  the  sudden  sibilant  sobbing  in 
the  ears  when  the  immense  tone  faints 
away  in  broken  whispers  of  silver,  — 
as  though  a  woman  should  whisper, 
"  Hiai  /  "  Even  so  the  great  bell,  hath 


The  Soul  of  the  Great  Bell.       1 1 

sounded  every  day  for  wellnigh  five 
hundred  years,  —  Ko-Ngai:  first  with 
stupendous  clang,  then  with  immeasu 
rable  moan  of  gold,  then  with  silver 
murmuring  of  "Hiai!"  And  there 
is  not  a  child  in  all  the  many-colored 
ways  of  the  old  Chinese  city  who  does 
not  know  the  story  of  the  great  bell, 
—  who  cannot  tell  you  why  the  great 
bell  says  Ko-Ngai  and  Hiai! 


#  * 
* 


Now,  this  is  the  story  of  the  great 
bell  in  the  Ta-chung  sz',  as  the  same  is 
related  in  the  Pe-Hiao-Tou-Choue,  writ 
ten  by  the  learned  Yu-Pao-Tchen,  of 
the  City  of  Kwang-tchau-fu. 

Nearly  five  hundred  years  ago  the 
Celestially  August,  the  Son  of  Heaven, 
Yong-Lo,  of  the  "  Illustrious,"  or  Ming, 
dynasty,  commanded  the  worthy  official 


1 2       The  Soul  of  the  Great  Bell. 

Kouan-Yu  that  he  should  have  a  bell 
made  of  such  size  that  the  sound  there 
of  might  be  heard  for  one  hundred  li. 
And  he  further  ordained  that  the  voice 
of  the  bell  should  be  strengthened  with 
brass,  and  deepened  with  gold,  and 
sweetened  with  silver ;  and  that  the 
face  and  the  great  lips  of  it  should  be 
graven  with  blessed  sayings  from  the 

JH 

sacred    books,   and   that    it   should    be 
suspended  in  the  centre  of  the  imperial 
capital,  to  sound  through  all  the  many 
colored  ways  of  the  City  of  Pe-king. 

Therefore  the  worthy  mandarin  Kouan- 
Yu  assembled  the  master-moulders  and 
the  renowned  bellsmiths  of  the  empire, 
and  all  men  of  great  repute  and  cun 
ning  in  foundry  work ;  and  they  meas 
ured  the  materials  for  the  alloy,  and 
treated  them  skilfully,  and  prepared 
the  moulds,  the  fires,  the  instruments, 


The  Soul  of  the  Great  Bell.       1 3 

and  the  monstrous  melting-pot  for 
fusing  the  metal.  And  they  labored 
exceedingly,  like  giants,  —  neglecting 
only  rest  and  sleep  and  the  comforts 
of  life;  toiling  both  night  and  day  in 
obedience  to  Kouan-Yu,  and  striving 
in  all  things  to  do  the  behest  of  the 
Son  of  Heaven. 

But  when  the  metal  had  '  ^en  cast, 
and  the  earthen  mould  separated  from 
the  glowing  casting,  it  was  discovered 
that,  despite  their  great  labor  and  cease 
less  care,  the  result  was  void  of  worth ; 
for  the  metals  had  rebelled  one  against 
the  other,  —  the  gold  had  scorned  alli 
ance  with  the  brass,  the  silver  would  not 
mingle  with  the  molten  iron.  There 
fore  the  moulds  had  to  be  once  more 
prepared,  and  the  fires  rekindled,  and 
the  metal  remelted,  and  all  the  work 
tediously  and  toilsomely  repeated.  The 


14       The  Soul  of  the  Great  Bell. 

Son  of    Heaven   heard,  and  was  angry, 
but  spake  nothing. 

A  second  time  the  bell  was  cast,  and 
the  result  was  even  worse.  Still  the 
metals  obstinately  refused  to  blend  one 
with  the  other ;  and  there  was  no  uni 
formity  in  the  bell,  and  the  sides  of  it 
were  cracked  and  fissured,  and  the  lips 
of  it  were  slagged  and  split  asunder ; 
so  that  all  the  labor  had  to  be  repeated 
even  a  third  time,  to  the  great  dismay 
of  Kouan-Yu.  And  when  the  Son  of 
Heaven  heard  these  things,  he  was 
angrier  than  before ;  and  sent  his  mes 
senger  to  Kouan-Yu  with  a  letter,  writ 
ten  upon  lemon-colored  silk,  and  sealed 
with  the  seal  of  the  Dragon,  containing 
these  words :  — 

"  From  the  Mighty  Yong-Lo,  the 
Sublime  Tail-Sung,  the  Celestial  and 


The  Soul  of  the  Great  Bell.       15 

Aiigust,  —  whose  reign  is  called  '  Mingl 
—  to  Kozian-  Yu  the  Fuh-yin  :  Twice  thou 
hast  betrayed  the  trust  we  have  deigned 
graciously  to  place  in  thee  ;  if  tJiou  fail 
a  third  time  in  fulfilling  our  command, 
thy  head  shall  be  severed  from  thy  neck. 
Tremble^  and  obey  /  " 


Now,  Kouan-Yu  bad  a  daughter  of 
dazzling  loveliness,  whose  name  —  Ko- 
Ngai  —  was  ever  in  the  mouths  of  po 
ets,  and  whose  heart  was  even  more 
beautiful  than  her  face.  Ko-Ngai  loved 
her  father  with  such  love  that  she  had 
refused  a  hundred  worthy  suitors  rather 
than  make  his  home  desolate  by  her 
absence ;  and  when  she  had  seen  the 
awful  yellow  missive,  sealed  with  the 
Dragon-Seal,  she  fainted  away  with  fear 
for  her  father's  sake.  And  when  her 


1 6       The  Soul  of  the  Great  Bell. 

senses  and  her  strength  returned  to  her, 
she  could  not  rest  or  sleep  for  thinking 
of  her  parent's  danger,  until  she  had 
secretly  sold  some  of  her  jewels,  and 
with  the  money  so  obtained  had  has 
tened  to  an  astrologer,  and  paid  him 
a  great  price  to  advise  her  by  what 
means  her  father  might  be  saved  from 
the  peril  impending  over  him.  So 
the  astrologer  made  observations  of  the 
heavens,  and  marked  the  aspect  of  the 
Silver  Stream  (which  we  call  the  Milky 
Way),  and  examined  the  signs  of  the 
Zodiac,  —  the  Hwang-tao,  or  Yellow 
Road,  —  and  consulted  the  table  of  the 
Five  Hin,  or  Principles  of  the  Universe, 
and  the  mystical  books  of  the  alche 
mists.  And  after  a  long  silence,  he 
made  answer  to  her,  saying :  "  Gold 
and  brass  will  never  meet  in  wedlock, 
silver  and  iron  never  will  embrace,  until 


The  Soul  of  the  Great.  Bell.       17 

the  flesh  of  a  maiden  be  melted  in  the 
crucible ;  until  the  blood  of  a  virgin  be 
mixed  with  the  metals  in  their  fusion." 
So  Ko-Ngai  returned  home  sorrowful 
at  heart ;  but  she  kept  secret  all  that 
she  had  heard,  and  told  no  one  what 
she  had  done. 


*  * 
* 


At  last  came  the  awful  day  when  the 
third  and  last  effort  to  cast  the  great 
bell  was  to  be  made ;  and  Ko-Ngai, 
together  with  her  waiting-woman,  ac 
companied  her  father  to  the  foundry, 
and  they  took  their  places  upon  a 
platform  overlooking  the  toiling  of 
the  moulders  and  the  lava  of  liquefied 
metal.  All  the  workmen  wrought  their 
tasks  in  silence ;  there  was  no  sound 
heard  but  the  muttering  of  the  fires. 
And  the  muttering  deepened  into  a 
roar  like  the  roar  of  typhoons  approach- 


1 8       The  Soul  of  the  Great  Bell. 

ing,  and  the  blood-red  lake  of  metal 
slowly  brightened  like  the  vermilion  of 
a  sunrise,  and  the  vermilion  was  trans 
muted  into  a  radiant  glow  of  gold, 
and  the  gold  whitened  blindingly,  like 
the  silver  face  of  a  full  moon.  Then 
the  workers  ceased  to  feed  the  raving 
flame,  and  all  fixed  their  eyes  upon 
the  eyes  of  Kouan-Yu  ;  and  Kouan-Yu 
prepared  to  give  the  signal  to  cast. 

But  ere  ever  he  lifted  his  finger, 
a  cry  caused  him  to  turn  his  head; 
and  all  heard  the  voice  of  Ko-Ngai 
sounding  sharply  sweet  as  a  bird's  song 
above  the  great  thunder  of  the  fires,  — 
"  For  thy  sake,  O  my  FatJicr  !  "  And 
even  as  she  cried,  she  leaped  into  the 
white  flood  of  metal ;  and  the  lava  of 
the  furnace  roared  to  receive  her,  and 
spattered  monstrous  flakes  of  flame 
to  the  roof,  and  burst  over  the  verge 


The  Soul  of  the  Great  Bell.       19 

of  the  earthen  crater,  and  cast  up  a 
whirling  fountain  of  many-colored  fires, 
and  subsided  quakingly,  with  light 
nings  and  with  thunders  and  with 

O 

mutterings. 

Then  the  father  of  Ko-Ngai,  wild 
with  his  grief,  would  have  leaped  in 
after  her,  but  that  strong  men  held 
him  back  and  kept  firm  grasp  upon 
him  until  he  had  fainted  away  and  they 
could  bear  him  like  one  dead  to  his 
home.  And  the  serving-woman  of  Ko- 
Ngai,  dizzy  and  speechless  for  pain, 
stood  before  the  furnace,  still  holding 
in  her  hands  a  shoe,  a  tiny,  dainty  shoe, 
with  embroidery  of  pearls  and  flowers, 
—  the  shoe  of  her  beautiful  mistress 
that  was.  For  she  had  sought  to  grasp 
Ko-Ngai  by  the  foot  as  she  leaped,  but 
had  only  been  able  to  clutch  the  shoe, 
and  the  pretty  shoe  came  off  in  her 


2O       The  Soul  of  the  Great  Bell. 

hand ;  and  she  continued  to  stare  at  it 
like  one  gone  mad. 

But  in  spite  of  all  these  things,  the 
command  of  the  Celestial  and  August 
had  to  be  obeyed,  and  the  work  of  the 
moulders  to  be  finished,  hopeless  as 
the  result  might  be.  Yet  the  glow  of 
the  metal  seemed  purer  and  whiter  than 
before ;  and  there  was  no  sign  of  the 
beautiful  body  that  had  been  entombed 
therein.  So  the  ponderous  casting  was 
made ;  and  lo !  when  the  metal  had 
become  cool,  it  was  found  that  the  bell 
was  beautiful  to  look  upon,  and  perfect 
in  form,  and  wonderful  in  color  above 
all  other  bells.  Nor  was  there  any 
trace  found  of  the  body  of  Ko-Ngai; 
for  it  had  been  totally  absorbed  by 
the  precious  alloy,  and  blended  with 
the  well-blended  brass  and  gold,  with 


The  Soul  of  the  Great  Bell.       21 
the  intermingling  of  the  silver  and  the 

O  O 

iron.  And  when  they  sounded  the  bell, 
its  tones  were  found  to  be  deeper  and 
mellower  and  mightier  than  the  tones 
of  any  other  bell,  —  reaching  even  be 
yond  the  distance  of  one  hundred  //, 
like  a  pealing  of  summer  thunder ;  and 
yet  also  like  some  vast  voice  uttering 
a  name,  a  woman's  name,  —  the  name 
of  Ko-Ngai ! 


* 

* 


And  still,  between  each  mighty  stroke 
there  is  a  long  low  moaning  heard ; 
and  ever  the  moaning  ends  with  a 
sound  of  sobbing  and  of  complaining, 
as  though  a  weeping  woman  should 
murmur,  "  Hiai  !  "  And  still,  when  the 
people  hear  that  great  golden  moan  they 
keep  silence ;  but  when  the  sharp,  sweet 
shuddering  comes  in  the  air,  and  the 
sobbing  of  "Hiai!'''  then,  indeed,  do 
1 


22       77/<?  Soul  of  the  Great  Bell. 

all  the  Chinese  mothers  in  all  the  many- 
colored  ways  of  Pe-king  whisper  to  their 
little  ones :  "  Listen  !  that  is  Ko-Ngai 
crying  for  her  shoe  !  That  is  Ko-Ngai 
calling  for  her  shoe!'1'' 


?A 

s9 

\y* 

;^ 


THE    STORY    OF    MING-Y. 


THE  ANCIENT  WORDS  OF  KOUEI,  —  MASTER  OF  MUSICIANS 
IN  THE  COURTS  OF  THE  EMPEROR  YAO  :  — 

When  ye  make  to  resound  the  stone  melodious,  the 

Ming-Khieou,  — 

When  ye  touch  the  lyre  that  is  called  Kin,  or  the 

guitar  that  is  called  Sse,  — 

Accompanying  their  sound  with  song,  — 

Then  do  the  grandfather  and  the  father  retiirn  j 

Then  do  the  ghosts  of  the  ancestors  come  to  hear. 


-j 


THE  STORY   OF  MING-Y. 


Sang  the    Poet   Tching-Kou :    "  Surely    the    Peach- 
Flowers  blossom  over  the  tomb  of  Sie-Thao." 

Do  you  ask  me  who  she  was,  —  the 
beautiful  Sie-Thao  ?  For  a  thousand 
years  and  more  the  trees  have  been 
whispering  above  her  bed  of  stone. 
And  the  syllables  of  her  name  come 
to  the  listener  with  the  lisping  of  the 
leaves ;  with  the  quivering  of  many- 
fingered  boughs ;  with  the  fluttering  of 
lights  and  shadows ;  with  the  breath, 
sweet  as  a  woman's  presence,  of  number 
less  savage  flowers,  —  Sie-Thao.  But, 
saving  the  whispering  of  her  name, 


26  The  Story  of  Ming-Y. 

what  the  trees  say  cannot  be  under 
stood;  and  they  alone  remember  the 
years  of  Sie-Thao. .  Something  about 
her  you  might,  nevertheless,  learn  from 
any  of  those  Kiang-kou-jin,  —  those  fa 
mous  Chinese  story-tellers,  who  nightly 
narrate  to  listening  crowds,  in  consid 
eration  of  a  few  tsien,  the  legends  of 
the  past.  Something  concerning  her 
you  may  also  find  in  the  book  entitled 
"  Kin-Kou-Ki-Koan,"  which  signifies  in 
our  tongue :  "  The  Marvellous  Happen 
ings  of  Ancient  and  of  Recent  Times." 
And  perhaps  of  all  things  therein  writ 
ten,  the  most  marvellous  is  this  mem 
ory  of  Sie-Thao :  — 

Five  hundred  years  ago,  in  the  reign 
of  the  Emperor  Houng-Wou,  whose 
dynasty  was  Ming,  there  lived  in  the 
City  of  Genii,  the  city  of  Kwang-tchau- 
fu,  a  man  celebrated  for  his  learning 


The  Story  of  Ming-Y.  27 

and  for  his  piety,  named  Tien-Pelou. 
This  Tien-Pelou  had  one  son,  a  beau 
tiful  boy,  who  for  scholarship  and  for 
bodily  grace  and  for  polite  accomplish 
ments  had  no  superior  among  the 
youths  of  his  age.  And  his  name  was 
Ming-Y. 

Now  when  the  lad  was  in  his  eigh 
teenth  summer,  it  came  to  pass  that 
Pelou,  his  father,  was  appointed  In 
spector  of  Public  Instruction  at  the 
city  of  Tching-tou ;  and  Ming-Y  ac 
companied  his  parents  thither.  Near 
the  city  of  Tching-tou  lived  a  rich  man 
of  rank,  a  high  commissioner  of  the 
government,  whose  name  was  Tchang, 
and  who  wanted  to  find  a  worthy 
teacher  for  his  children.  On  hearing 
of  the  arrival  of  the  new  Inspector  of 
Public  Instruction,  the  noble  Tchang 
visited  him  to  obtain  advice  in  this 


28  The  Story  of  Ming-Y. 

matter ;  and  happening  to  meet  and 
converse  with  Pelou's  accomplished 
son,  immediately  engaged  Ming-Y  as 
a  private  tutor  for  his  family. 

Now  as  the  house  of  this  Lord 
Tchang  was  situated  several  miles  from 
town,  it  was  deemed  best  that  Ming-Y 
should  abide  in  the  house  of  his  em 
ployer.  Accordingly  the  youth  made 
ready  all  things  necessary  for  his  new 
sojourn  ;  and  his  parents,  bidding  him 
farewell,  counselled  him  'wisely,  and 
cited  to  him  the  words  of  Lao-tseu 
and  of  the  ancient  sages:  "By  a  beau 
tiful  face  the  world  is  filled  with  love ; 
but  Heaven  may  never  be  deceived  there 
by.  Should^  thou  behold  a  woman 
coming  from  the  East,  look  tJiou  to  tJie 
West ;  shouldst  thou  perceive  a  maiden 
approaching  from  the  West,  turn  thine 
eyes  to  the  East''1  If  Ming-Y  did  not 


The  Story  of  Ming-Y.  29 

heed  this  counsel  in  after  days,  it  was 
only  because  of  his  youth  and  the 
thoughtlessness  of  a  naturally  joyous 
heart. 

Arid  he  departed  to  abide  in  the 
house  of  Lord  Tchang,  while  the  au 
tumn  passed,  and  the  winter  also. 


*  * 


When  the  time  of  the  second  moon 
of  spring  was  drawing  near,  and  that 
happy  day  which  the  Chinese  call  Hoa- 
tchao,  or,  "The  Birthday  of  a  Hundred 
Flowers,"  a  longing  came  upon  Ming- 
Y  to  see  his  parents;  and  he  opened 
his  heart  to  the  good  Tchang,  who 
not  only  gave  him  the  permission  he 
desired,  but  also  pressed  into  his  hand 
a  silver  gift  of  two  ounces,  thinking 
that  the  lad  might  wish  to  bring  some 
little  memento  to  his  father  and  mother. 


3O  The  Story  of  Ming-Y. 

For  it  is  the  Chinese  custom,  on  the 
feast  of  Hoa-tchao,  to  make  presents 
to  friends  and  relations. 

That  day  all  the  air  was  drowsy 
with  blossom  perfume,  and  vibrant  with 
the  droning  of  bees.  It  seemed  to 
Ming-Y  that  the  path  he  followed 
had  not  been  trodden  by  any  other  for 
many  long  years :  the  grass  was  tall 
upon  it;  vast  trees  on  either  side  inter 
locked  their  mighty  and  moss-grown 
arms  above  him,  beshadowing  the  way; 
but  the  leafy  obscurities  quivered  with 
bird-song,  and  the  deep  vistas  of  the 
wood  were  glorified  by  vapors  of  gold, 
and  odorous  with  flower-breathings  as 
a  temple  with  incense.  The  dreamy 
joy  of  the  day  entered  into  the  heart  of 
Ming-Y;  and  he  sat  him  down  among 
the  young  blossoms,  under  the  branches 
swaying  against  the  violet  sky,  to  drink 


The  Story  of  Ming-Y.  31 

in  the  perfume  and  the  light,  and  to 
enjoy  the  great  sweet  silence.  Even 
while  thus  reposing,  a  sound  caused 
him  to  turn  his  eyes  toward  a  shady 
place  where  wild  peach-trees  were  in 
bloom ;  and  he  beheld  a  young  woman, 
beautiful  as  the  pinkening  blossoms 
themselves,  trying  to  hide  among  them. 
Though  he  looked  for  a  moment  only, 
Ming-Y  could  not  avoid  discerning  the 
loveliness  of  her  face,  the  golden  pu 
rity  of  her  complexion,  and  the  bright 
ness  of  her  long  eyes,  that  sparkled 
under  a  pair  of  brows  as  daintily  curved 
as  the  wings  of  the  silkworm  butter 
fly  outspread.  Ming-Y  at  once  turned 
his  gaze  away,  and,  rising  quickly, 
proceeded  on  his  journey.  But  so 
much  embarrassed  did  he  feel  at  the 
idea  of  those  charming  eyes  peeping 
at  him  through  the  leaves,  that  he 


32  The  Story  of  Ming-Y. 

suffered  the  money  he  had  been  car 
rying  in  his  sleeve  to  fall,  without  be 
ing  aware  .of  it.  A  few  moments  later 
he  heard  the  patter  of  light  feet  run 
ning  behind  him,  and  a  woman's  voice 
calling  him  by  name.  Turning  his 
face  in  great  surprise,  he  saw  a  comely 
servant-maid,  who  said  to  him,  "  Sir, 
my  mistress  bade  me  pick  up  and  re 
turn  you  this  silver  which  you  dropped 
upon  the  road."  Ming-Y  thanked  the 
girl  gracefully,  and  requested  her  to 
convey  his  compliments  to  her  mis 
tress.  Then  he  proceeded  on  his  way 
through  the  perfumed  silence,  athwart 
the  shadows  that  dreamed  along  the  for 
gotten  path,  dreaming  himself  also,  and 
feeling  his  heart  beating  with  strange 
quickness  at  the  thought  of  the  beau 
tiful  being  that  he  had  seen. 


* 
* 


The  Story  of  Ming-Y.  33 

It  was  just  such  another  day  when 
Ming-Y,  returning  by  the  same  path, 
paused  once  more  at  the  spot  where 
the  gracious  figure  had  momentarily 
appeared  before  him.  But  this  time 
he  was  surprised  to  perceive,  through 
a  long  vista  of  immense  trees,  a  dwell 
ing  that  had  previously  escaped  his 
notice,  —  a  country  residence,  not  large, 
yet  elegant  to  an  unusual  degree.  The 
bright  blue  tiles  of  its  curved  and 
serrated  double  roof,  rising  above  the 
foliage,  seemed  to  blend  their  color 
with  the  luminous  azure  of  the  day; 
the  green-and-gold  designs  of  its  carven 
porticos  were  exquisite  artistic  mock 
eries  of  leaves  and  flowers  bathed  in 
sunshine.  And  at  the  summit  of  ter 
race-steps  before  it,  guarded  by  great 
porcelain  tortoises,  Ming-Y  saw  stand 
ing  the  mistress  of  the  mansion,  —  the 

3 


34  The  Story  of  Ming-Y. 

idol  of  his  passionate  fancy,  —  accom 
panied  by  the  same  waiting-maid  who 
had  borne  to  her  his  message  of  grati 
tude.  While  Ming-Y  looked,  he  per 
ceived  that  their  eyes  were  upon  him ; 
they  smiled  and  conversed  together  as  if 
speaking  about  him ;  and,  shy  though  he 
was,  the .  youth  found  courage  to  salute 
the  fair  one  from  a  distance.  To  his 
astonishment,  the  young  servant  beck 
oned  him  to  approach ;  and  opening  a 
rustic  gate  half  veiled  by  trailing  plants 
bearing  crimson  flowers,  Ming-Y  ad 
vanced  along  the  verdant  alley  leading  to 
the  terrace,  with  mingled  feelings  of  sur 
prise  and  timid  joy.  As  he  drew  near, 
the  beautiful  lady  withdrew  from  sight ; 
but  the  maid  waited  at  the  broad  steps 
to  receive  him,  and  said  as  he  ascended: 

"  Sir,   my   mistress    understands   you 
wish   to  thank  her  for  the  trifling  ser- 


The  Story  of  Ming-Y.  35 

vice  she  recently  bade  me  do  you,  and 
requests  that  you  will  enter  the  house, 
as  she  knows  you  already  by  repute, 
and  desires  to  have  the  pleasure  of 
bidding  you  good-day." 

Ming-Y  entered  bashfully,  his  feet 
making  no  sound  upon  a  matting  elas- 
tically  soft  as  forest  moss,  and  found 
himself  in  a  reception-chamber  vast, 
cool,  and  fragrant  with  scent  of  blos 
soms  freshly  gathered.  A  delicious 
quiet  pervaded  the  mansion ;  shadows 
of  flying  birds  passed  over  the  bands  of 
light  that  fell  through  the  half-blinds 
of  bamboo;  great  butterflies,  with  pin 
ions  of  fiery  color,  found  their  way  in, 
to  hover  a  moment  about  the  painted 
vases,  and  pass  out  again  into  the 
mysterious  woods.  And  noiselessly  as 
they,  the  young  mistress  of  the  mansion 
entered  by  another  door,  and  kindly 


36  The  Story  of  Ming-Y. 

greeted  the  boy,  who  lifted  his  hands  to 
his  breast  and  bowed  low  in  salutation. 
She  was  taller  than  he  had  deemed  her, 
and  supplely-slender  as  a  beauteous  lily  ; 
her  black  hair  was  interwoven  with  the 
creamy  blossoms  of  the  chu-sha-kih ; 
her  robes  of  pale  silk  took  shifting  tints 
when  she  moved,  as  vapors  change  hue 
with  the  changing  of  the  light. 

"  If  I  be  not  mistaken,"  she  said, 
when  both  had  seated  themselves  after 
having  exchanged  the  customary  formal 
ities  of  politeness,  "  my  honored  visitor 
is  none  other  than  Tien-chou,  surnamed 
Ming-Y,  educator  of  the  children  of  my 
respected  relative,  the  High  Commis 
sioner  Tchang.  As  the  family  of  Lord 
Tchang  is  my  family  also,  I  cannot  but 
consider  the  teacher  of  his  children  as 
one  of  my  own  kin." 

"  Lady,"  replied  Ming-Y,  not  a  little 


The  Story  of  Ming-Y.  37 

astonished,  "  may  I  dare  to  inquire  the 
name  of  your  honored  family,  and  to 
ask  the  relation  which  you  hold  to  my 
noble  patron  ? " 

"  The  name  of  my  poor  family," 
responded  the  comely  lady,  "  is  Ping, 
—  an  ancient  family  of  the  city  of 
Tching-tou.  I  am  the  daughter  of  a 
certain  Sie  of  Moun-hao;  Sie  is  my 
name,  likewise;  and  I  was  married  to  a 
young  man  of  the  Ping  family,  whose 
name  was  Khang.  By  this  marriage  I 
became  related  to  your  excellent  patron; 
but  my  husband  died  soon  after  our 
wedding,  and  I  have  chosen  this  solitary 
place  to  reside  in  during  the  period  of 
my  widowhood." 

There  was  a  drowsy  music  in  her 
voice,  as  of  the  melody  of  brooks,  the 
murmurings  of  spring ;  and  such  a 
strange  grace  in  the  manner  of  her 


38  The  Story  of  Ming-Y. 

speech  as  Ming-Y  had  never  heard  be 
fore.  Yet,  on  learning  that  she  was  a 
widow,  the  youth  would  not  have  pre 
sumed  to  remain  long  in  her  presence 
without  a  formal  invitation  ;  and  after 
having  sipped  the  cup  of  rich  tea  pre 
sented  to  him,  he  arose  to  depart.  Sie 
would  not  suffer  him  to  go  so  quickly. 

**  Nay,  friend,"  she  said ;  "  stay  yet 
a  little  while  in  my  house,  I  pray  you ; 
for,  should  your  honored  patron  ever 
learn  that  you  had  been  here,  and  that 
I  had  not  treated  you  as  a  respected 
guest,  and  regaled  you  even  as  I  would 
him,  I  know  that  he  would  be  greatly 
angered.  Remain  at  least  to  supper." 

So  Ming-Y  remained,  rejoicing  se 
cretly  in  his  heart,  for  Sie  seemed  to 
him  the  fairest  and  sweetest  being  he 
had  ever  known,  and  he  felt  that  he 
loved  her  even  more  than  his  father  and 


The  Story  of  Ming-Y.  39 

his  mother.  And  while  they  talked  the 
long  shadows  of  the  evening  slowly 
blended  into  one  violet  darkness;  the 
great  citron-light  of  the  sunset  faded 
out;  and  those  starry  beings  that  are 
called  the  Three  Councillors,  who  pre 
side  over  life  and  death  and  the  des 
tinies  of  men,  opened  their  cold  bright 
eyes  in  the  northern  sky.  Within  the 
mansion  of  Sie  the  painted  lanterns 
were  lighted ;  the  table  was  laid  for 
the  evening  repast ;  and  Ming-Y  took 
his  place  at  it,  feeling  little  inclination 
to  eat,  and  thinking  only  of  the  charm 
ing  face  before  him.  Observing  that 
he  scarcely  tasted  the  dainties  laid 
upon  his  plate,  Sie  pressed  her  young 
guest  to  partake  of  wine ;  and  they 
drank  several  cups  together.  It  was  a 
purple  wine,  so  cool  that  the  cup  into 
which  it  was  poured  became  covered 


4O  The  Story  of  Ming-Y. 

with  vapory  dew ;  yet  it  seemed  to 
warm  the  veins  with  strange  fire.  To 
Ming-Y,  as  he  drank,  all  things  became 
more  luminous  as  by  enchantment ; 
the  walls  of  the  chamber  appeared 
to  recede,  and  the  roof  to  heighten ; 
the  lamps  glowed  like  stars  in  their 
chains,  and  the  voice  of  Sie  floated  to 
the  boy's  ears  like  some  far  melody 
heard  through  the  spaces  of  a  drowsy 
night.  His  heart  swelled ;  his  tongue 
loosened ;  and  words  flitted  from  his 
lips  that  he  had  fancied  he  could  never 
dare  to  utter.  Yet  Sie  sought  not  to  re 
strain  him  ;  her  lips  gave  no  smile  ;  but 
her  long  bright  eyes  seemed  to  laugh 
with  pleasure  at  his  words  of  praise, 
and  to  return  his  gaze  of  passionate 
admiration  with  affectionate  interest. 

"  I  have   heard,"  she    said,  "  of   your 
rare  talent,  and  of  your  many  elegant 


The  Story  of  Ming-Y.  41 

accomplishments.  I  know  how  to  sing 
a  little,  although  I  cannot  claim  to 
possess  any  musical  learning ;  and  now 
that  I  have  the  honor  of  finding  my 
self  in  the  society  of  a  musical  pro 
fessor,  I  will  venture  to  lay  modesty 
aside,  and  beg  you  to  sing  a  few  songs 
with  me.  I  should  deem  it  no  small 
gratification  if  you  would  condescend 
to  examine  my  musical  compositions." 

"  The  honor  and  the  gratification, 
dear  lady,"  replied  Ming-Y,  "  will  be 
mine ;  and  I  feel  helpless  to  express 
the  gratitude  which  the  offer  of  so 
rare  a  favor  deserves." 

The  serving-maid,  obedient  to  the 
summons  of  a  little  silver  gong,  brought 
in  the  music  and  retired.  Ming-Y  took 
the  manuscripts,  and  began  to  examine 
them  with  eager  delight.  The  paper 
upon  which  they  were  written  had  a 


42  The  Story  of  Ming-Y. 

pale  yellow  tint,  and  was  light  as  a 
fabric  of  gossamer;  but  the  characters 
were  antiquely  beautiful,  as  though  they 
had  been  traced  by  the  brush  of  Hei'- 
song  Che-Tchoo  him1-"*  —that  divine 
Genius  of  Ink,  who  ^  no  bigger  than 
a  fly ;  and  the  signatures  attached  to 
the  compositions  were  the  signatures 
of  Youen-tchin,  Kao-pien,  and  Thou- 
mou,  —  mighty  poets  and  musicians  of 
the  dynasty  of  Thang !  Ming-Y  could 
not  repress  a  scream  of  delight  at  the 
sight  of  treasures  so  inestimable  and 
so  unique ;  scarcely  could  he  summon 
resolution  enough  to  permit  them  to 
leave  his  hands  even  for  a  moment. 

"  O  Lady ! "  he  cried,  "  these  are 
veritably  priceless  things,  surpassing  in 
worth  the  treasures  of  all  kings.  This 
indeed  is  the  handwriting  of  those 
great  masters  who  sang  five  hundred 


The  Story  of  Ming-Y.  43 

years  before  our  birth.  How  marvel 
lously  it  has  been  preserved !  Is  not 
this  the  wondrous  ink  of  which  it  was 
written:  Po-nien-jou-chi,  i-tien-jou-ki, — 
'After  centr-  ,:-,  I  remain  firm  as 
stone,  and  the  idlers  that  I  make  like 
lacquer '  ?  And  how  divine  the  charm 
of  this  composition  !  —  the  song  of  Kao- 
pien,  prince  of  poets,  and  Governor  of 
Sze-tchouen  five  hundred  years  ago ! " 

"  Kao-pien  !  darling  Kao-pien  !  "  mur 
mured  Sie,  with  a  singular  light  in 
her  eyes.  "  Kao-pien  is  also  my  favor 
ite.  Dear  Ming-Y,  let  us  chant  his 
verses  together,  to  the  melody  of  old, — 
the  music  of  those  grand  years  when 
men  were  nobler  and  wiser  than  to 
day." 

And  their  voices  rose  through  the 
perfumed  night  like  the  voices  of  the 
wonder-birds,  —  of  the  Fung-hoang,  — 


44  The  Story  of  Ming-Y. 

blending  together  in  liquid  sweetness. 
Yet  a  moment,  and  Ming-Y,  overcome 
by  the  witchery  of  his  companion's 
voice,  could  only  listen  in  speechless 
ecstasy,  while  the  lights  of  the  chamber 
swam  dim  before  his  sight,  and  tears  of 
pleasure  trickled  down  his  cheeks. 

So  the  ninth  hour  passed ;  and  they 
continued  to  converse,  and  to  drink 
the  cool  purple  wine,  and  to  sing  the 
songs  of  the  years  of  Thang,  until 
far  into  the  night.  More  than  once 
Ming-Y  thought  of  departing  ;  but  each 
time  Sie  would  begin,  in  that  silver- 
sweet  voice  of  hers,  so  wondrous  a  story 
of  the  great  poets  of  the  past,  and  of 
the  women  whom  they  loved,  that  he 
became  as  one  entranced  ;  or  she  would 
sing  for  him  a  song  so  strange  that  all 
his  senses  seemed  to  die  except  that  of 
hearing.  And  at  last,  as  she  paused  to 


The  Story  of  Ming-Y.  45 

pledge  him  in  a  cup  of  wine,  Ming-Y 
could  not  restrain  himself  from  putting 
his  arm  about  her  round  neck  and 
drawing  her  dainty  head  closer  to  him, 
and  kissing  the  lips  that  were  so 
much  ruddier  and  sweeter  than  the 
wine.  Then  their  lips  separated  no 
more  ;  —  the  night  grew  old,  and  they 
knew  it  not. 


#  * 


The  birds  awakened,  the  flowers 
opened  their  eyes  to  the  rising  sun,  and 
Ming-Y  found  himself  at  last  compelled 
to  bid  his  lovely  enchantress  farewell. 
Sie,  accompanying  him  to  the  terrace, 
kissed  him  fondly  and  said,  "  Dear  boy, 
come  hither  as  often  as  you  are  able,  — 
as  often  as  your  heart  whispers  you  to 
come.  I  know  that  you  are  not  of 
those  without  faith  and  truth,  who  be 
tray  secrets ;  yet,  being  so  young,  you 


46  The  Story  of  Ming-Y. 

might  also  be  sometimes  thoughtless ; 
and  I  pray  you  never  to  forget  that  only 
the  stars  have  been  the  witnesses  of  our 
love.  Speak  of  it  to  no  living  person, 
dearest ;  and  take  with  you  this  little 
souvenir  of  our  happy  night." 

And  she  presented  him  with  an  ex 
quisite  and  curious  little  thing,  —  a 
paper-weight  in  likeness  of  a  couchant 
lion,  wrought  from  a  jade-stone  yellow 
as  that  created  by  a  rainbow  in  honor 
of  Kong-fu-tze.  Tenderly  the  boy 
kissed  the  gift  and  the  beautiful  hand 
that  gave  it.  "  May  the  Spirits  punish 
me,"  he  vowed,  "  if  ever  I  knowingly 
give  you  cause  to  reproach  me,  sweet 
heart  !  "  And  they  separated  with  mu 
tual  vows. 

That  morning,  on  returning  to  the 
house  of  Lord  Tchang,  Ming-Y  told  the 
first  falsehood  which  had  ever  passed 


The  Story  of  Ming-Y,  47 

his  lips.  He  averred  that  his  mother 
had  requested  him  thenceforward  to 
pass  his  nights  at  home,  now  that  the 
weather  had  become  so  pleasant;  for, 
though  the  way  was  somewhat  long, 
he  was  strong  and  active,  and  needed 
both  air  and  healthy  exercise.  Tchang 
believed  all  Ming-Y  said,  and  offered  no 
objection.  Accordingly  the  lad  found 
himself  enabled  to  pass  all  his  evenings 
at  the  house  of  the  beautiful  Sie.  Each 
night  they  devoted  to  the  same  pleas 
ures  which  had  made  their  first  ac 
quaintance  so  charming  :  they  sang  and 
conversed  by  turns ;  they  played  at 
chess,  —  the  learned  game  invented  by 
Wu-Wang,  which  is  an  imitation  of 
war;  they  composed  pieces  of  eighty 
rhymes  upon  the  flowers,  the  trees, 
the  clouds,  the  streams,  the  birds,  the 
bees.  But  in  all  accomplishments  Sie 


48  The  Story  of  Ming-  Y. 

far  excelled  her  young  sweetheart. 
Whenever  they  played  at  chess,  it 
was  always  Ming-Y's  general,  Ming-Y's 
tsiang,  who  was  surrounded  and  van 
quished  ;  when  they  composed  verses, 
Sie's  poems  were  ever  superior  to  his 
in  harmony  of  word-coloring,  in  ele 
gance  of  form,  in  classic  loftiness  of 
thought.  And  the  themes  they  selected 
were  always  the  most  difficult,  —  those 
of  the  poets  of  the  Thang  dynasty  ;  the 
songs  they  sang  were  also  the  songs 
of  five  hundred  years  before,  —  the 
songs  of  Youen-tchin,  of  Thou-mou,  of 
Kao-pien  above  all,  high  poet  and  ruler 
of  the  province  of  Sze-tchouen. 

So  the  summer  waxed  and  waned 
upon  their  love,  and  the  luminous  au 
tumn  came,  with  its  vapors  of  phantom 
gold,  its  shadows  of  magical  purple. 


* 


The  Story  of  Ming-Y.  49 

Then  it  unexpectedly  happened  that 
the  father  of  Ming-Y,  meeting  his  son's 
employer  at  Tching-tou,  was  asked  by 
him :  "  Why  must  your  boy  continue 
to  travel  every  evening  to  the  city,  now 
that  the  winter  is  approaching  ?  The 
way  is  long,  and  when  he  returns  in 
the  morning  he  looks  fordone  with 
weariness.  Why  not  permit  him  to 
slumber  in  my  house  during  the  season 
of  snow  ?  "  And  the  father  of  Ming-Y, 
greatly  astonished,  responded  :  "  Sir,  my 
son  has  not  visited  the  city,  nor  has 
he  been  to  our  house  all  this  summer. 
I  fear  that  he  must  have  acquired 
wicked  habits,  and  that  he  passes  his 
nights  in  evil  company,  —  perhaps  in 
gaming,  or  in  drinking  with  the  women 
of  the  flower-boats."  But  the  High 
Commissioner  returned  :  "  Nay !  that  is 
not  to  be  thought  of.  I  have  never 

4 


50  The  Story  of  Ming-Y. 

found  any  evil  in  the  boy,  and  there 
are  no  taverns  nor  flower-boats  nor  any 
places  of  dissipation  in  our  neighbor 
hood.  No  doubt  Ming-Y  has  found 
some  amiable  youth  of  his  own  age 
with  whom  to  spend  his  evenings,  and 
only  told  me  an  untruth  for  fear  that 
I  would  not  otherwise  permit  him  to 
leave  my  residence.  I  beg  that  you 
will  say  nothing  to  him  until  I  shall 
have  sought  to  discover  this  mystery ; 
and  this  very  evening  I  shall  send  my 
servant  to  follow  after  him,  and  to 
watch  whither  he  goes." 

Pelou  readily  assented  to  this  propo 
sal,  and  promising  to  visit  Tchang 
the  following  morning,  returned  to  his 
home.  In  the  evening,  when  Ming-Y 
left  the  house  of  Tchang,  a  servant 
followed  him  unobserved  at  a  distance. 
But  on  reaching  the  most  obscure 


The  Story  of  Ming  -Y. 

_;  _  '     '         '         ' 
{    / 


portion  of  the  road,  the  boy  disap 
peared  from  sight  as  suddenly  as 
though  the  earth  had  swallowed  him. 
After  having  long  sought  after  him 
in  vain,  the  domestic  returned  in 
great  bewilderment  to  the  house, 
and  related  what  had  taken  place. 
Tchang  immediately  sent  a  messenger 
to  Pelou. 

In  the  mean  time  Ming-Y,  entering 
the  chamber  of  his  beloved,  was  sur 
prised  and  deeply  pained  to  find  her 
in  tears.  "  Sweetheart,"  she  sobbed, 
wreathing  her  arms  around  his  neck, 
"  we  are  about  to  be  separated  forever, 
because  of  reasons  which  I  cannot  tell 
you.  From  the  very  first  I  knew  this 
must  come  to  pass  ;  and  nevertheless 
it  seemed  to  me  for  the  moment  so 
cruelly  sudden  a  loss,  so  unexpected 
a  misfortune,  that  I  could  not  prevent 


52  The  Story  of  Ming-Y. 

myself  from  weeping  !  After  this  night 
we  shall  never  see  each  other  again, 
beloved,  and  I  know  that  you  will  not 
be  able  to  forget  me  while  you  live ; 
but  I  know  also  that  you  will  become 
a  great  scholar,  and  that  honors  and 
riches  will  be  showered  upon  you,  and 
that  some  beautiful  and  loving  woman 
will  console  you  for  my  loss.  And 
now  let  us  speak  no  more  of  grief ;  but 
let  us  pass  this  last  evening  joyously, 
so  that  your  recollection  of  me  may 
not  be  a  painful  one,  and  that  you 
may  remember  my  laughter  rather  than 
my  tears." 

She  brushed  the  bright  drops  away, 
and  brought  wine  and  music  and  the 
melodious  kin  of  seven  silken  strings, 
and  would  not  suffer  Ming-Y  to  speak 
for  one  moment  of  the  coming  separa 
tion.  And  she  sang  him  an  ancient 


The  Story  of  Ming-Y.  53 

song  about  the  calmness  of  summer 
lakes  reflecting  the  blue  of  heaven 
only,  and  the  calmness  of  the  heart 
also,  before  the  clouds  of  care  and  of 
grief  and  of  weariness  darken  its  little 
world.  Soon  they  forgot  their  sorrow 
in  the  joy  of  song  and  wine  ;  and  those 
last  hours  seemed  to  Ming-Y  more  ce 
lestial  than  even  the  hours  of  their 
first  bliss. 

But  when  the  yellow  beauty  of  morn 
ing  came  their  sadness  returned,  and 
they  wept.  Once  more  Sie  accompa 
nied  her  lover  to  the  terrace-steps ;  and 
as  she  kissed  him  farewell,  she  pressed 
into  his  hand  a  parting  gift,  —  a  little 
brush-case  of  agate,  wonderfully  chis 
elled,  and  worthy  the  table  of  a  great 
poet.  And  they  separated  forever, 
shedding  many  tears. 


*  * 

# 


54  The  Story  of  Ming-Y. 

Still  Ming-Y  could  not  believe  it  was 
an  eternal  parting.  "  No  !  "  he  thought, 
"  I  shall  visit  her  to-morrow ;  for  I  can 
not  now  live  without  her,  and  I  feel 
assured  that  she  cannot  refuse  to  re 
ceive  me."  Such  were  the  thoughts  that 
filled  his  mind  as  he  reached  the  house 
of  Tchang,  to  find  his  father  and  his 
patron  standing  on  the  porch  awaiting 
him.  Ere  he  could  speak  a  word,  Pe- 
lou  demanded :  "  Son,  in  what  place 
have  you  been  passing  your  nights  ? " 

Seeing  that  his  falsehood  had  been 
discovered,  Ming-Y  dared  not  make 
any  reply,  and  remained  abashed  and 
silent,  with  bowed  head,  in  the  pres 
ence  of  his  father.  Then  Pelou,  strik 
ing  the  boy  violently  with  his  staff, 
commanded  him  to  divulge  the  se 
cret  ;  and  at  last,  partly  through  fear 
of  his  parent,  and  partly  through  fear 


The  Story  of  Ming-Y.  55 

of  the  law  which  ordains  that  "  the  son 
refusing  to  obey  his  father  shall  be 
punished  with  one  hundred  blows  of 
the  bamboo?  Ming-Y  faltered  out  the 
history  of  his  love. 

Tchang  changed  color  at  the  boy's 
tale.  "  Child,"  exclaimed  the  High 
Commissioner,  "  I  have  no  relative  of 
the  name  of  Ping;  I  have  never  heard 
of  the  woman  you  describe ;  I  have 
never  heard  even  of  the  house  which 
you  speak  of.  But  I  know  also  that 
you  cannot  dare  to  lie  to  Pelou,  your 
honored  father;  there  is  some  strange 
delusion  in  all  this  affair." 

Then  Ming-Y  produced  the  gifts  that 
Sie  had  given  him,  —  the  lion  of  yellow 
jade,  the  brush-case  of  carven  agate, 
also  some  original  compositions  made 
by  the  beautiful  lady  herself.  The  as 
tonishment  of  Tchang  was  now  shared 


56  The  Story  of  Ming-  Y.  ' 

by  Pelou.  Both  observed  that  the 
brush-case  of  agate  and  the  lion  of 
jade  bore  the  appearance  of  objects 
that  had  lain  buried  in  the  earth  for 
centuries,  and  were  of  a  workmanship 
beyond  the  power  of  living  man  to  im 
itate  ;  while  the  compositions  proved 
to  be  veritable  master-pieces  of  poetry, 
written  in  the  style  of  the  poets  of 
the  dynasty  of  Thang. 

"  Friend  Pelou,"  cried  the  High 
Commissioner,  "  let  us  immediately  ac 
company  the  boy  to  the  place  where 
he  obtained  these  miraculous  things, 
and  apply  the  testimony  of  our  senses 
to  this  mystery.  The  boy  is  no  doubt 
telling  the  truth  ;  yet  his  story  passes 
my  understanding."  And  all  three  pro 
ceeded  toward  the  place  of  the  habita 
tion  of  Sie. 


* 

* 


The  Story  of  Ming-Y.  57 

But  when  they  had  arrived  at  the 
shadiest  part  of  the  road,  where  the  per 
fumes  were  most  sweet  and  the  mosses 
were  greenest,  and  the  fruits  of  the 
wild  peach  flushed  most  pinkly,  Ming-Y, 
gazing  through  the  groves,  uttered  a 
cry  of  dismay.  Where  the  azure-tiled 
roof  had  risen  against  the  sky,  there 
was  now  only  the  blue  emptiness  of 
air ;  where  the  green-and-gold  fa$ade 
had  been,  there  was  visible  only  the 
flickering  of  leaves  under  the  aureate 
autumn  light ;  and  where  the  broad 
terrace  had  extended,  could  be  dis 
cerned  only  a  ruin,  —  a  tomb  so  an 
cient,  so  deeply  gnawed  by  moss,  that 
the  name  graven  upon  it  was  no  longer 
decipherable.  The  home  of  Sie  had 
disappeared ! 

All  suddenly  the  High  Commis 
sioner  smote  his  forehead  with  his 


58  The  Story  of  Ming-Y. 

hand,  and  turning  to  Pelou,  recited 
the  well-known  verse  of  the  ancient 
poet  Tching-Kou  :  — 

"  Surely  the  peach-flowers  blossom 
over  the  tomb  of  SIE-THAO." 

"  Friend  Pelou,"  continued  Tchang, 
"  the  beauty  who  bewitched  your  son 
was  no  other  than  she  whose  tomb 
stands  there  in  ruin  before  us !  Did 
she  not  say  she  was  wedded  to  Ping- 
Khang?  There  is  no  family  of  that 
name,  but  Ping-Khang  is  indeed  the 
name  of  a  broad"  alley  in  the  city  near. 
There  was  a  dark  riddle  in  all  that  she 
said.  She  called  herself  Sie  of  Moun- 
Hiao :  there  is  no  person  of  that  name  ; 
there  is  no  street  of  that  name ;  but 
the  Chinese  characters  Moun  and  hiao, 
placed  together,  form  the  character 
'  Kiao.'  Listen  !  The  alley  Ping-Khang, 
situated  in  the  street  Kiao,  was  the 


The  Story  oj  Ming-Y.  59 

place  where  dwelt  the  great  courtesans 
of  the  dynasty  of  Thang !  Did  she 
not  sing  the  songs  of  Kao-pien  ?  And 
upon  the  brush-case  and  the  paper 
weight  she  gave  your  son,  are  there 
not  characters  which  read,  ''Pure  object 
of  art  belonging  to  Kao,  of  the  city  of 
Pho-hai '  /  That  city  no  longer  exists  ; 
but  the  memory  of  Kao-pien  remains, 
for  he  was  governor  of  the  province  of 
Sze-tchouen,  and  a  mighty  poet.  And 
when  he  dwelt  in  the  land  of  Chou, 
was  not  his  favorite  the  beautiful  wan 
ton  Sie,  —  Sie-Thao,  unmatched  for 
grace  among  all  the  women  of  her 
day?  It  was  he  who  made  her  a  gift 
of  those  manuscripts  of  song ;  it  was 
he  who  gave  her  those  objects  of  rare 
art.  Sie-Thao  died  not  as  other  women 
die.  Her  limbs  may  have  crumbled  to 
dust ;  yet  something  of  her  still  lives  in 


60  The  Story  of  Ming-Y. 

this    deep    wood,  —  her    Shadow    still 
haunts    this    shadowy    place." 

Tchang  ceased  to  speak.  A  vague 
fear  fell  upon  the  three.  The  thin 
mists  of  the  morning  made  dim  the 
distances  of  green,  and  deepened  the 
ghostly  beauty  of  the  woods.  A  faint 
breeze  passed  by,  leaving  a  trail  of 
blossom-scent,  —  a  last  odor  of  dying 
flowers, — thin  as  that  which  clings  to 
the  silk  of  a  forgotten  robe  ;  and,  as 
it  passed,  the  trees  seemed  to  whisper 
across  the  silence,  " Si'e-Thao." 


*  * 


Fearing  greatly  for  his  son,  Pelou  sent 
the  lad  away  at  once  to  the  city  of 
Kwang-tchau-fu.  And  there,  in  after 
years,  Ming-Y  obtained  high  dignities 
and  honors  by  reason  of  his  talents 
and  his  learning ;  and  he  married  the 


The  Story  of  Ming-Y.  61 

daughter  of  an  illustrious  house,  by 
whom  he  became  the  father  of  sons 
and  daughters  famous  for  their  virtues 
and  their  accomplishments.  Never 
could  he  forget  Sie-Thao;  and  yet  it 
is  said  that  he  never  spoke  of  her, — 
not  even  when  his  children  begged 
him  to  tell  them  the  story  of  two 
beautiful  objects  that  always  lay  upon 
his  writing-table :  a  lion  of  yellow  jade, 
and  a  brush-case  of  carven  agate. 


THE    LEGEND    OF    TCHI-NIU. 


A  SOUND  OF  GONGS,  A  SOUND  OF  SONG,  —  THE  SONG 
OF  THE  BUILDERS  BUILDING  THE  DWELLINGS  OF  THE 
DEAD  :  — 


Khiti  tchi  ying-ying. 
Tofi  tchi  hofing-ho&ng. 
Tcho  tchi  tdng-tong. 
Sid  liu  ping-ping. 


THE   LEGEND  OF  TCHI-NIU.1 


IN  the  quaint  commentary  accom 
panying  the  text  of  that  holy  book  of 
Lao-tseu  called  Kan-ing-p" ien  may  be 
found  a  little  story  so  old  that  the 
name  of  the  one  who  first  told  it  has 
been  forgotten  for  a  thousand  years, 
yet  so  beautiful  that  it  lives  still  in  the 
memory  of  four  hundred  millions  of 
people,  like  a  prayer  that,  once  learned, 
is  forever  remembered.  The  Chinese 
writer  makes  no  mention  of  any  city 
nor  of  any  province,  although  even  in  the 
relation  of  the  most  ancient  traditions 

1  By  permission  of  Messrs.  Harper  &  Bros. 

5 


66         The  Legend  of  Tchi-Niu. 

such  an  omission  is  rare :  we  are  only 
told  that  the  name  of  the  hero  of  the 
legend  was  Tong-yong,  and  that  he 
lived  in  the  years  of  the  great  dynasty 
of  Han,  some  twenty  centuries  ago. 


*  * 

* 


Tong-yong's  mother  had  died  while 
he  was  yet  an  infant ;  and  when  he  be 
came  a  youth  of  nineteen  years  his 
father  also  passed  away,  leaving  him 
utterly  alone  in  the  world,  and  without 
resources  of  any  sort ;  for,  being  a  very 
poor  man,  Tong's  father  had  put  him 
self  to  great  straits  to  educate  the  lad, 
and  had  not  been  able  to  lay  by  even 
one  copper  coin  of  his  earnings.  And 
Tong  lamented  greatly  to  find  himself 
so  destitute  that  he  could  not  honor 
the  memory  of  that  good  father  by 
having  the  customary  rites  of  burial 


Tke  Legend  of  Tchi-Niu.         67 

performed,  and  a  carven  tomb  erected 
upon  a  propitious  site.  The  poor  only 
are  friends  of  the  poor ;  and  among  all 
those  whom  Tong  knew,  there  was  no 
one  able  to  assist  him  in  defraying  the 
expenses  of  the  funeral.  In  one  way 
only  could  the  youth  obtain  money,  — 
by  selling  himself  as  a  slave  to  some 
rich  cultivator ;  and  this  he  at  last 
decided  to  'do.  In  vain  his  friends  did 
their  utmost  to  dissuade  him  ;  and  to 
no  purpose  did  they  attempt  to  delay 
the  accomplishment  of  his  sacrifice  by 
beguiling  promises  of  future  aid.  Tong 
only  replied  that  he  would  sell  his  free 
dom  a  hundred  times,  if  it  were  possible, 
rather  than  suffer  his  father's  memory 
to  remain  unhonored  even  for  a  brief 
season.  And  furthermore,  confiding  in 
his  youth  and  strength,  he  determined 
to  put  a  high  price  upon  his  servitude, 


68         The  Legend  of  Tchi-Niu. 

—  a  price  which  would  enable  him  to 
build  a  handsome  tomb,  but  which  it 
would  be  wellnigh  impossible  for  him 
ever  to  repay. 


*  * 

* 


Accordingly  he  repaired  to  the  broad 
public  place  where  slaves  and  debtors 
^ere  exposed  for  sale,  and  seated  him 
self  upon  a  bench  of  stone,  having 
affixed  to  his  shoulders  a  placard  in 
scribed  with  the  terms  of  his  servitude 
and  the  list  of  his  qualifications  as  a 
laborer.  Many  who  read  the  characters 
upon  the  placard  smiled  disdainfully  at 
the  price  asked,  and  passed  on  without 
a  word  ;  others  lingered  only  to  question 
him  out  of  simple  curiosity ;  some  com 
mended  him  with  hollow  praise  ;  some 
openly  mocked  his  unselfishness,  and 
laughed  at  his  childish  piety.  Thus 
many  hours  wearily  passed,  and  Tong 


The  Legend  of  Tchi-Niu.         69 

had  almost  despaired  of  finding  a  mas 
ter,  when  there  rode  up  a  high  official 
of  the  province,  —  a  grave  and  hand 
some  man,  lord  of  a  thousand  slaves, 
and  owner  of  vast  estates.  Reining  in 
his  Tartar  horse,  the  official  halted  to 
read  the  placard  and  to  consider  the 
value  of  the  slave.  He  did  not  smile, 
or  advise,  or  ask  any  questions ;  but 
having  observed  the  price  asked,  and 
the  fine  strong  limbs  of  the  youth, 
purchased  him  without  further  ado, 
merely  ordering  his  attendant  to  pay 
the  sum  and  to  see  that  the  necessary 
papers  were  made  out. 


*  * 
* 


Thus  Tong  found  himself  enabled 
to  fulfil  the  wish  of  his  heart,  and  to 
have  a  monument  built  which,  although 
of  small  size,  was  destined  to  delight 


70         The  Legend  of  Tchi-Niu. 

the  eyes  of  all  who  beheld  it,  being 
designed  by  cunning  artists  and  exe 
cuted  by  skilful  sculptors.  And  while 
it  was  yet  designed  only,  the  pious 
rites  were  performed,  the  silver  coin 
was  placed  in  the  mouth  of  the  dead, 
the  white  lanterns  were  hung  at  the 
door,  the  holy  prayers  were  recited, 
and  paper  shapes  of  all  things  the 
departed  might  need  in  the  land  of 
the  Genii  were  consumed  in  conse 
crated  fire.  And  after  the  geomancers 
and  the  necromancers  had  chosen  a 
burial-spot  which  no  unlucky  star  could 
shine  upon,  a  place  of  rest  which  no 
demon  or  dragon  might  ever  disturb, 
the  beautiful  chih  was  built.  Then 
was  the  phantom  money  strewn  along 
the  way  ;  the  funeral  procession  de 
parted  from  the  dwelling  of  the  dead, 
and  with  prayers  and  lamentation  the 


The  Legend  of  Tchi-Niu,         71 

mortal  remains  of   Tong's  good  father 
were  borne  to  the  tomb. 

Then  Tong  entered  as  a  slave  into 
the  service  of  his  purchaser,  who  al 
lotted  him  a  little  hut  to  dwell  in ; 
and  thither  Tong  carried  with  him 
those  wooden  tablets,  bearing  the  an 
cestral  names,  before  which  filial  piety 
must  daily  burn  the  incense  of  prayer, 
and  perform  the  tender  duties  of  fam 
ily  worship. 

* 

Thrice  had  spring  perfumed  the 
breast  of  the  land  with  flowers,  and 
thrice  had  been  celebrated  that  festi 
val  of  the  dead  which  is  called  Siu-fan- 
ti,  and  thrice  had  Tong  swept  and 
garnished  his  father's  tomb  and  pre 
sented  his  fivefold  offering  of  fruits 
and  meats.  The  period  of  mourning 
had  passed,  yet  he  had  not  ceased  to 


72          The  Legend  of  Tchi-Niu. 

mourn  for  his  parent.  The  years  re 
volved  with  their  moons,  bringing  him 
no  hour  of  joy,  no  day  of  happy  rest ; 
yet  he  never  lamented  his  servitude,  or 
failed  to  perform  the  rites  of  ancestral 
worship,  —  until  at  last  the  fever  of  the 
rice-fields  laid  strong  hold  upon  him, 
and  he  could  not  arise  from  his  couch ; 
and  his  fellow-laborers  thought  him 
destined  to  die.  There  was  no  one  to 
wait  upon  him,  no  one  to  care  for  his 
needs,  inasmuch  as  slaves  and  servants 
were  wholly  busied  with  the  duties  of 
the  household  or  the  labor  of  the  fields, 
—  all  departing  to  toil  at  sunrise  and  re 
turning  weary  only  after  the  sundown. 

Now,  while  the  sick  youth  slumbered 
the  fitful  slumber  of  exhaustion  one 
sultry  noon,  he  dreamed  that  a  strange 
and  beautiful  woman  stood  by  him, 
and  bent  above  him  and  touched  his 


The  Legend  of  Tchi-Niu.         73 

forehead  with  the  long,  fine  fingers 
of  her  shapely  hand.  And  at  her 
cool  touch  a  weird  sweet  shock  passed 
through  him,  and  all  his  veins  tingled 
as  if  thrilled  by  new  life.  Opening 
his  eyes  in  wonder,  he  saw  verily  bend 
ing  over  him  the  charming  being  of 
whom  he  had  dreamed,  and  he  knew 
that  her  lithe  hand  really  caressed  his 
throbbing  forehead.  But  the  flame  of 
the  fever  was  gone,  a  delicious  cool 
ness  now  penetrated  every  fibre  of  his 
body,  and  the  thrill  of  which  he  had 
dreamed  still  tingled  in  his  blood  like 
a  great  joy.  Even  at  the  same  moment 
the  eyes  of  the  gentle  visitor  met  his 
own,  and  he  saw  they  were  singularly 
beautiful,  and  shone  like  splendid  black 
jewels  under  brows  curved  like  the 
wings  of  the  swallow.  Yet  their  calm 
gaze  seemed  to  pass  through  him  as 


74         The  Legend  of  Tchi-Niu. 

light  through  crystal ;  and  a  vague  awe 
came  upon  him,  so  that  the  question 
which  had  risen  to  his  lips  found  no 
utterance.  Then  she,  still  caressing 
him,  smiled  and  said :  "  I  have  come 
to  restore  thy  strength  and  to  be  thy 
wife.  Arise  and  worship  with  me." 

Her  clear  voice  had  tones  melodious 
as  a  bird's  song ;  but  in  her  gaze  there 
was  an  imperious  power  which  Tong 
felt  he  dare  not  resist.  Rising  from 
his  couch,  he  was  astounded  to  find 
his  strength  wholly  restored ;  but  the 
cool,  slender  hand  which  held  his  own 
led  him  away  so  swiftly  that  he  had 
little  time  for  amazement.  He  would 
have  given  years  of  existence  for  cour 
age  to  speak  of  his  misery,  to  declare 
his  utter  inability  to  maintain  a  wife ; 
but  something  irresistible  in  the  long 
dark  eyes  of  his  companion  forbade 


The  Legend  of  Tchi-Niu.         75 

him  to  speak ;  and  as  though  his  in 
most  thought  had  been  discerned  by 
that  wondrous  gaze,  she  said  to  him, 
in  the  same  clear  voice,  "  /  will  pro 
vide?  Then  shame  made  him  blush 
at  the  thought  of  his  wretched  aspect 
and  tattered  apparel ;  but  he  observed 
that  she  also  was  poorly  attired,  like 
a  woman  of  the  people,  —  wearing  no 
ornament  of  any  sort,  nor  even  shoes 
upon  her  feet.  And  before  he  had  yet 
spoken  to  her,  they  came  before  the  an 
cestral  tablets ;  and  there  she  knelt  with 
him  and  prayed,  and  pledged  him  in 
a  cup  of  wine,  —  brought  he  knew  not 
from  whence,  —  and  together  they  wor 
shipped  Heaven  and  Earth.  Thus  she 
became  his  wife. 


* 

# 


A    mysterious   marriage   it   seemed ; 
for   neither   on    that    day   nor   at   any 


76         The  Legend  of  Tchi-Niu. 

future  time  could  Tong  venture  to  ask 
his  wife  the  name  of  her  family,  or  of 
the  place  whence  she  came,  and  he 
could  not  answer  any  of  the  curious 
questions  which  his  fellow-laborers  put 
to  him  concerning  her; 'and  she,  more 
over,  never  uttered  a  word  about  her 
self,  except  to  say  that  her  name  was 
Tchi.  But  although  Tong  had  such 
awe  of  her  that  while  her  eyes  were 
upon  him  he  was  as  one  having  no 
will  of  his  own,  he  loved  her  unspeak 
ably  ;  and  the  thought  of  his  serfdom 
ceased  to  weigh  upon  him  from  the 
hour  of  his  marriage.  As  through 
magic  the  little  dwelling  had  become 
transformed :  its  misery  was  masked 
with  charming  paper  devices,  —  with 
dainty  decorations  created  out  of  noth 
ing  by  that  pretty  jugglery  of  which 
woman  only  knows  the  secret. 


The  Legend  of  Tchi-Niu.         77 

Each  morning  at  dawn  the  young 
husband  found  a  well-prepared  and  am 
ple  repast  awaiting  him,  and  each 
evening  also  upon  his  return  ;  but  the 
wife  all  day  sat  at  her  loom,  weaving 
silk  after  a  fashion  unlike  anything 
which  had  ever  been  seen  before  in 
that  province.  For  as  she  wove,  the 
silk  flowed  from  the  loom  like  a  slow 
current  of  glossy  gold,  bearing  upon 
its  undulations  strange  forms  01  violet 
and  crimson  and  jewel-green:  shapes  of 
ghostly  horsemen  riding  upon  horses, 
and  of  phantom  chariots  dragon-drawn, 
and  of  standards  of  trailing  cloud.  In 
every  dragon's  beard  glimmered  the 
mystic  pearl ;  in  every  rider's  helmet 
sparkled  the  gem  of  rank.  And  each 
day  Tchi  would  weave  a  great  piece  of 
such  figured  silk;  and  the  fame  of  her 
weaving  spread  abroad.  From  far  and 


78          The  Legend  of  Tchi-Niu. 

near  people  thronged  to  see  the  mar 
vellous  work;  and  the  silk-merchants 
of  great  cities  heard  of  it,  and  they 
sent  messengers  to  Tchi,  asking  her 
that  she  should  weave  for  them  and 
teach  them  her  secret.  Then  she  wove 
for  them,  as  they  desired,  in  return  for 
the  silver  cubes  which  they  brought 
her  ;  but  when  they  prayed  her  to 

teach    them,    she     laughed    aM    said, 
.iiiii    ne    was  as    one    having    ».. 


will  of  his  own,  he  loved  her  unspeak 
ably  ;  and  the  thought  of  his  serfdom 
ceased  to  weigh  upon  him  from  the 
hour  of  his  marriage.  As  through 
magic  the  little  dwelling  had  become 
transformed  :  its  misery  was  masked 
with  charming  paper  devices,  —  with 
dainty  decorations  created  out  of  noth 
ing  by  that  pretty  jugglery  of  which 
woman  only  knows  the  secret. 


The  Legend  of  Tchi-Niu.         79 

vide;""  and  the  cubes  of  bright  silver 
brought  by  the  silk-merchants  were 
piled  up  higher  and  higher  in  the 
great  carven  chest  which  Tchi  had 
bought  for  the  storage  of  the  house 
hold  goods. 

One  morning,  at  last,  when  Tong, 
having  finished  his  repast,  was  about 
to  depart  to  the  fields,  Tchi  unexpect 
edly  ba^e  him  remain;  and  opening 
its  undulations  strange  forms  OJL  "violet 
and  crimson  and  jewel-green:  shapes  of 
ghostly  horsemen  riding  upon  horses, 
and  of  phantom  chariots  dragon-drawn, 
and  of  standards  of  trailing  cloud.  In 
every  dragon's  beard  glimmered  the 
mystic  pearl ;  in  every  rider's  helmet 
sparkled  the  gem  of  rank.  And  each 
day  Tchi  would  weave  a  great  piece  of 
such  figured  silk;  and  the  fame  of  her 
weaving  spread  abroad.  From  far  and 


8o         The  Legend  of  Tc/ii-Niu. 

sake  only.  And  I  have  also  bought 
this  dwelling,  with  all  which  is  there 
in,  and  the  tea-fields  to  the  south, 
and  the  mulberry  groves  hard  by,  —  all 
of  which  are  thine." 

Then  Tong,  beside  himself  for  grate 
fulness,  would  have  prostrated  himself 
in  worship  before  her,  but  that  she 
would  not  suffer  it. 


*  * 

* 


Thus  he  was  made  free ;  and  pros 
perity  came  to  him  with  his  freedom; 
and  whatsoever  he  gave  to  the  sacred 
earth  was  returned  to  him  centupled ; 
and  his  servants  loved  him  and  blessed 
the  beautiful  Tchi,  so  silent  and  yet  so 
kindly  to  all  about  her.  But  the  silk- 
loom  soon  remained  untouched,  for 
Tchi  gave  birth  to  a  son,  —  a  boy  so 
beautiful  that  Tong  wept  with  delight 


The  Legend  of  Tchi-Niu.         81 

when  he  looked  upon  him.  And  there 
after  the  wife  devoted  herself  wholly 
to  the  care  of  the  child. 

Now  it  soon  became  manifest  that 
the  boy  was  not  less  wonderful  than 
his  wonderful  mother.  In  the  third 
month  of  his  age  he  could  speak ;  in 
the  seventh  month  he  could  repeat  by 
heart  the  proverbs  of  the  sages,  and 
recite  the  holy  prayers  ;  before  the  elev 
enth  month  he  could  use  the  writing- 
brush  with  skill,  and  copy  in  shapely 
characters  the  precepts  of  Lao-tseu. 
And  the  priests  of  the  temples  came 
to  behold  him  and  to  converse  with 
him,  and  they  marvelled  at  the  charm 
of  the  child  and  the  wisdom  of  what 
he  said ;  and  they  blessed  Tong,  say 
ing  :  "  Surely  this  son  of  thine  is  a  gift 
from  the  Master  of  Heaven,  a  sign 
that  the  immortals  love  thee.  May 


82          The  Legend  of  Tchi-Niu. 

thine    eyes    behold    a   hundred    happy 
summers !  " 


*  * 

* 


It  was  in  the  Period  of  the  Eleventh 
Moon :  the  flowers  had  passed  away, 
the  perfume  of  the  summer  had  flown, 
the  winds  were  growing  chill,  and  in 
Tong's  home  the  evening  fires  were 
lighted.  Long  the  husband  and  wife 
sat  in  the  mellow  glow,  —  he  speaking 
much  of  his  hopes  and  joys,  and  of 
his  son  that  was  to  be  so  grand  a  man, 
and  of  many  paternal  projects ;  while 
she,  speaking  little,  listened  to  his 
words,  and  often  turned  her  wonder 
ful  eyes  upon  him  with  an  answering 
smile.  Never  had  she  seemed  so  beau 
tiful  before ;  and  Tong,  watching  her 
face,  marked  not  how  the  night  waned, 
nor  how  the  fire  sank  low,  nor  how  the 
wind  sang  in  the  leafless  trees  without. 


The  Legend  of  Tchi-Niu.         83 

All  suddenly  Tchi  arose  without 
speaking,  and  took  his  hand  in  hers 
and  led  him,  gently  as  on  that  strange 
wedding-morning,  to  the  cradle  where 
their  boy  slumbered,  faintly  smiling 
in  his  dreams.  And  in  that  moment 
there  came  upon  Tong  the  same 
strange  fear  that  he  knew  when  Tchi's 
eyes  had  first  met  his  own,  —  the  vague 
fear  that  love  and  trust  had  calmed,  but 
never  wholly  cast  out,  like  unto  the 
fear  of  the  gods.  And  all  unknow 
ingly,  like  one  yielding  to  the  pressure 
of  mighty  invisible  hands,  he  bowed 
himself  low  before  her,  kneeling  as  to  a 
divinity.  Now,  when  he  lifted  his  eyes 
again  to  her  face,  he  closed  them  forth 
with  in  awe ;  for  she  towered  before 
him  taller  than  any  mortal  woman,  and 
there  was  a  glow  about  her  as  of  sun 
beams,  and  the  light  of  her  limbs  shone 


84         The  Legend  of  Tchi-Niu. 

through  her  garments.  But  her  sweet 
voice  came  to  him  with  all  the  tender 
ness  of  other  hours,  saying:  "Lo/  my 
beloved,  the  moment  has  come  in  which 
I  must  forsake  thee ;  for  I  was  never 
of  mortal  born,  and  the  Invisible  may 
incarnate  themselves  for  a  time  only. 
Yet  I  leave  with  thee  the  pledge  of  our 
love,  —  this  fair  son,  who  shall  ever  be 
to  thee  as  faithful  and  as  fond  as  thou 
thyself  hast  been.  Know,  my  beloved, 
that  I  was  sent  to  thee  even  by  the  Mas 
ter  of  Heaven,  in  reward  of  thy  filial 
piety,  and  that  I  must  now  return  to 
the  glory  of  His  house :  I  AM  THE 
GODDESS  Tcm-Niu." 

Even  as  she  ceased  to  speak,  the 
great  glow  faded ;  and  Torig,  re-opening 
his  eyes,  knew  that  she  had  passed 
away  forever,  -*•  mysteriously  as  pass 
the  winds  of  heaven,  irrevocably  as 


The  Legend  of  Tchi-Niu.         85 

the  light  of  a  flame  blown  out.  Yet 
all  the  doors  were  barred,  all  the  win 
dows  unopened.  Still  the  child  slept, 
smiling  in  his  sleep.  Outside,  the 
darkness  was  breaking;  the  sky  was 
brightening  swiftly ;  the  night  was 
past.  With  splendid  majesty  the  East 
threw  open  high  gates  of  gold  for  the 
coming  of  the  sun;  and,  illuminated 
by  the  glory  of  his  coming,  the  vapors 
of  morning  wrought  themselves  into 
marvellous  shapes  of  shifting  color, — 
into  forms  weirdly  beautiful  as  the 
silken  dreams  woven  in  the  loom  of 
Tchi-Niu. 


THE   RETURN   OF   YEN-TCHIN-K1NG. 


Before  me  ran,  as  a  herald  runneth,  the  Leader  of 
the  Moon; 

And  the  Spirit  of  the  Wind  followed  after  me, — 

quickening  his  flight. 

Li-SAO. 


THE   RETURN   OF  YEN-TCHIN-KING. 


IN  the  thirty-eighth  chapter  of  the 
holy  book,  Kan-ing-fiien,  wherein  the 
Recompense  of  Immortality  is  consid 
ered,  may  be  found  the  legend  of  Yen- 
Tchin-King.  A  thousand  years  have 
passed  since  the  passing  of  the  good 
Tchin-King ;  for  it  was  in  the  period 
of  the  greatness  of  Thang  that  he  lived 
and  died. 

Now,  in  those  days  when  Yen- Tchin- 
King  was  Supreme  Judge  of  one  of 
the  Six  August  Tribunals,  one  Li-hi- 
lie,  a  soldier  mighty  for  evil,  lifted 
the  black  banner  of  revolt,  and  drew 


9O     The  Return  of  Yen-Tchin-King. 

after  him,  as  a  tide  of  destruction,  the 
millions  of  the  northern  provinces. 
And  learning  of  these  things,  and 
knowing  also  that  Hi-lie  was  the  most 
ferocious  of  men,  who  respected  noth 
ing  on  earth  save  fearlessness,  the 
Son  of  Heaven  commanded  Tchin- 
King  that  he  should  visit  Hi-lie  and 
strive  to  recall  the  rebel  to  duty,  and 
read  unto  the  people  who  followed 
after  him  in  revolt  the  Emperor's  letter 
of  reproof  and  warning.  For  Tchin- 
King  was  famed  throughout  the  prov 
inces  for  his  wisdom,  his  rectitude, 
and  his  fearlessness ;  and  the  Son  of 
Heaven  believed  that  if  Hi-lie  would 
listen  to  the  words  of  any  living  man 
steadfast  in  loyalty  and  virtue,  he  would 
listen  to  the  words  of  Tchin-King. 
So  Tchin-King  arrayed  himself  in  his 
robes  of  office,  and  set  his  house  in 


The  Return  of  Yen-  Tchin-King.      9 1 

order ;  and,  having  embraced  his  wife 
and  his  children,  mounted  his  horse 
and  rode  away  alone  to  the  roaring 
camp  of  the  rebels,  bearing  the  Em 
peror's  letter  in  his  bosom.  "  I  shall 
return ;  fear  not !  "  were  his  last  words 
to  the  gray  servant  who  watched  him 
from  the  terrace  as  he  rode. 


*  * 
* 


And  Tchin-King  at  last  descended 
from  his  horse,  and  entered  into  the 
rebel  camp,  and,  passing  through  that 
huge  gathering  of  war,  stood  in  the 
presence  of  Hi-lie.  High  sat  the  rebel 
among  his  chiefs,  encircled  by  the  wave- 
lightning  of  swords  and  the  thunders 
of  ten  thousand  gongs :  above  him  un 
dulated  the  silken  folds  of  the  Black 
Dragon,  while  a  vast  fire  rose  bicker 
ing  before  him.  Also  Tchin-King  saw 


92       The  Return  of  Yen-Tchin-King. 

that  the  tongues  of  that  fire  were  lick 
ing  human  bones,  and  that  skulls  of 
men  lay  blackening  among  the  ashes. 
Yet  he  was  not  afraid  to  look  upon  the 
fire,  nor  into  the  eyes  of  Hi-lie ;  but 
drawing  from  his  bosom  the  roll  of 
perfumed  yellow  silk  upon  which  the 
words  of  the  Emperor  were  written, 
and  kissing  it,  he  made  ready  to  read, 
while  the  multitude  became  silent. 
Then,  in  a  strong,  clear  voice  he 
began  :  — 

"  The  words  of  the  Celestial  and  Au 
gust,  the  Son  of  Heaven,  the  Divine 
Ko-Tsu-Tchin-Yao-ti,  unto  the  rebel  Li- 
Hi-lie  and  those  that  follow  him" 

And  a  roar  went  up  like  the  roar 
of  the  sea,  —  a  roar  of  rage,  and  the 
hideous  battle-moan,  like  the  moan  of 
a  forest  in  storm, — "  Hoo  !  hoo-oo-oo-oo  !  " 
—  and  the  sword-lightnings  brake  loose, 


The  Return  of  Yen-Tc -kin-King.      93 

and  the  thunder  of  the  gongs  moved 
the  ground  beneath  the  messenger's 
feet.  But  Hi-lie  waved  his  gilded 
wand,  and  again  there  was  silence. 
"  Nay !  "  spake  the  rebel  chief ;  "  let  the 
dog  bark ! "  So  Tchin-King  spake 
on  :  — 

"  Knowest  thou  not,  O  most  rash  and 
foolish  of  men,  that  thou  leadest  the 
people  only  into  the  mouth  of  the  Dragon 
of  Destruction  ?  Knowest  thou  not, 
also,  that  the  people  of  my  kingdom 
are  the  first-born  of  the  Master  of 
Heaven  ?  So  it  hath  been  written  that 
he  who  doth  needlessly  subject  the  people 
to  wounds  and  death  shall  not  be  suf 
fered  by  Heaven  to  live !  Thou  who 
wouldst  subvert  those  laws  founded  by 
the  wise,  —  those  laws  in  obedience  to 
which  may  happiness  and  prosperity 
alone  be  found,  —  thou  art  committing 


94     The  Return  of  Yen-Tchin-King. 

the  greatest  of  all  crimes,  —  the  crime 
that  is  never  forgiven ! 

"  O  my  people,  think  not  that  I  your 
Emperor,  I  your  Father,  seek  your  de 
struction.  I  desire  only  your  happiness, 
your  prosperity,  your  greatness ;  let  not 
your  folly  provoke  the  severity  of  your 
Celestial  Parent.  Follow  not  after  mad 
ness  and  blind  rage ;  hearken  rather  to 
the  wise  words  of  my  messenger? 

"  Hoo  !  hoo-oo-oo-oo-oo  /  "  roared  the  peo 
ple,  gathering  fury.  " Hoo  !  hoo-oo-oo-oo  !  " 
—  till  the  mountains  rolled  back  the  cry 
like  the  rolling  of  a  typhoon  ;  and  once 
more  the  pealing  of  the  gongs  para 
lyzed  voice  and  hearing.  Then  Tchin- 
King,  looking  at  Hi-lie,  saw  that  he 
laughed,  and  that  the  words  of  the  let 
ter  would  not  again  be  listened  to. 
Therefore  he  read  on  to  the  end  with 
out  looking  about  him,  resolved  to  per- 


The  Return  of  Yen-  Tchin-King.      95 

form  his  mission  in  so  far  as  lay  in 
his  power.  And  having  read  all,  he 
would  have  given  the  letter  to  Hi-lie ; 
but  Hi-lie  would  not  extend  his  hand 
to  take  it.  Therefore  Tchin-King  re 
placed  it  in  his  bosom,  and  folding  his 
arms,  looked  Hi-lie  calmly  in  the  face, 
and  waited.  Again  Hi-lie  waved  his 
gilded  wand ;  and  the  roaring  ceased, 
and  the  booming  of  the  gongs,  until 
nothing  save  the  fluttering  of  the 
Dragon-banner  could  be  heard.  Then 
spake  Hi-lie,  with  an  evil  smile,  — 

"Tchin-King,  O  son  of  a  dog!  if 
thou  dost  not  now  take  the  oath  of 
fealty,  and  bow  thyself  before  me,  and 
salute  me  with  the  salutation  of  Em 
perors,  —  even  with  the  luh-kao,  the 
triple  prostration,  —  into  that  fire  thou 
shalt  be  thrown." 

But    Tchin-King,    turning    his    back 


96      The  Return  of  Yen-Tchin-King. 

upon  the  usurper,  bowed  himself  a 
moment  in  worship  to  Heaven  and 
Earth ;  and  then  rising  suddenly,  ere 
any  man  could  lay  hand  upon  him,  he 
leaped  into  the  towering  flame,  and 
stood  there,  with  folded  arms,  like  a 
God. 

Then  Hi-lie  leaped  to  his  feet  in 
amazement,  and  shouted  to  his  men ; 
and  they  snatched  Tchin-King  from 
the  fire,  and  wrung  the  flames  from 
his  robes  with  their  naked  hands,  and 
extolled  him,  and  praised  him  to  his 
face.  And  even  Hi-lie  himself  de 
scended  from  his  seat,  and  spoke  fair 
words  to  him,  saying:  "O  Tchin-King, 
I  see  thou  art  indeed  a  brave  man  and 
true,  and  worthy  of  all  honor;  be 
seated  among  us,  I  pray  thee,  and  par 
take  of  whatever  it  is  in  our  power  to 
bestow ! " 


The  Return  of  Yen-Tchin-King.     97 

But  Tchin-King,  looking  upon  him 
unswervingly,  replied  in  a  voice  clear 
as  the  voice  of  a  great  bell,  — 

"  Never,  O  Hi-lie,  shall  I  accept 
aught  from  thy  hand,  save  death,  so 
long  as  thou  shalt  continue  in  the 
path  of  wrath  and  folly.  And  never 
shall  it  be  said  that  Tchin-King  sat 
him  down  among  rebels  and  traitors, 
among  murderers  and  robbers." 

Then  Hi-lie,  in  sudden  fury,  smote 
him  with  his  sword ;  and  Tchin-King 
fell  to  the  earth  and  died,  striving  even 
in  his  death  to  bow  his  head  toward 
the  south,  —  toward  the  place  of  the 
Emperor's  palace,  —  toward  the  pres 
ence  of  his  beloved  Master. 


#  * 
# 


Even  at  the  same  hour  the   Son   of 
Heaven,    alone   in    the    inner    chamber 

7 


98      The  Return  of  Yen-Tc kin-King. 

of  his  palace,  became  aware  of  a  Shape 
prostrate  before  his  feet;  and  when  he 
spake,  the  Shape  arose  and  stood  before 
him,  and  he  saw  that  it  was  Tchin- 
King.  And  the  Emperor  would  have 
questioned  him ;  yet  ere  he  could  ques 
tion,  the  familiar  voice  spake,  saying : 

"  Son  of  Heaven,  the  mission  con 
fided  to  me  I  have  performed ;  and  thy 
command  hath  been  accomplished  to 
the  extent  of  thy  humble  servant's 
feeble  power.  But  even  now  must  I 
depart,  that  I  may  enter  the  service  of 
another  Master." 

And  looking,  the  Emperor  perceived 
that  the  Golden  Tigers  upon  the  wall 
were  visible  through  the  form  of  Tchin- 
King;  and  a  strange  coldness,  like  a 
winter  wind,  passed  through  the  cham 
ber;  and  the  figure  faded  out.  Then 
the  Emperor  knew  that  the  Master  of 


The  Return  of  Yen-  Tchin-King.      99 

whom  his  faithful  servant  had  spoken 
was  none  other  than  the  Master  of 
Heaven. 

Also  at  the  same  hour  the  gray  ser 
vant  of  Tchin-King's  house  beheld  him 
passing  through  the  apartments,  smil 
ing  as  he  was  wont  to  smile  when  he 
saw  that  all  things  were  as  he  desired. 
"  Is  it  well  with  thee,  my  lord  ? "  ques 
tioned  the  aged  man.  And  a  voice 
answered  him :  "  It  is  well ; "  but  the 
presence  of  Tchin-King  had  passed 
away  before  the  answer  came. 


* 
* 


So  the  armies  of  the  Son  of  Heaven 
strove  with  the  rebels.  But  the  land 
was  soaked  with  blood  and  blackened 
with  fire ;  and  the  corpses  of  whole 
populations  were  carried  by  the  rivers 
to  feed  the  fishes  of  the  sea;  and  still 


ioo     The  Return  of  Yen-Tc kin-King. 

the  war  prevailed  through  many  a  long 
red  year.  Then  came  to  aid  the  Son 
of  Heaven  the  hordes  that  dwell  in  the 
desolations  of  the  west  and  north,  — 
horsemen  born,  a  nation  of  wild  arch 
ers,  each  mighty  to  bend  a  two-hun 
dred-pound  bow  until  the  ears  should 
meet.  And  as  a  whirlwind  they  came 
against  rebellion,  raining  raven-feath 
ered  arrows  in  a  storm  of  death  ;  and 
they  prevailed  against  Hi-lie  and  his 
people.  Then  those  that  survived  de 
struction  and  defeat  submitted,  and 
promised  allegiance ;  and  once  more 
was  the  law  of  righteousness  restored. 
But  Tchin-King  had  been  dead  for 
many  summers. 

And  the  Son  of  Heaven  sent  word 
to  his  victorious  generals  that  they 
should  bring  back  with  them  the  bones 
of  his  faithful  servant,  to  be  laid  with 


The  Return  of  Yen-Tchin-King.     101 

honor  in  a  mausoleum  erected  by  im 
perial  decree.  So  the  generals  of  the 
Celestial  and  August  sought  after  the 
nameless  grave  and  found  it,  and  had 
the  earth  taken  up,  and  made  ready 
to  remove  the  coffin. 

But  the  coffin  crumbled  into  dust 
before  their  eyes ;  for  the  worms  had 
gnawed  it,  and  the  hungry  earth  had 
devoured  its  substance,  leaving  only  a 
phantom  shell  that  vanished  at  touch 
of  the  light.  And  lo !  as  it  vanished, 
all  beheld  lying  there  the  perfect  form 
and  features  of  the  good  Tchin-King. 
Corruption  had  not  touched  him,  nor 
had  the  worms  disturbed  his  rest,  nor 
had  the  bloom  of  life  departed  from 
his  face.  And  he  seemed  to  dream 
only,  —  comely  to  see  as  upon  the 
morning  of  his  bridal,  and  smiling  as 
the  holy  images  smile,  with  eyelids 


IO2     The  Return  of  Yen-Tc kin-King. 

closed,  in  the  twilight  of  the  great 
pagodas. 

Then  spoke  a  priest,  standing  by 
the  gra'vfe :  "  O  my  children,  this  is 
indeed  a  Sign  from  the  Master  of 
Heaven ;  in  such  wise  do  the  Powers 
Celestial  preserve  them  that  are  chosen 
to  be  numbered  with  the  Immortals. 
Death  may  not  prevail  over  them, 
neither  may  corruption  come  nigh 
them.  Verily  the  blessed  Tchin-King 
hath  taken  his  place  among  the  divini 
ties  of  Heaven ! " 

Then  they  bore  Tchin-King  back  to 
his  native  place,  and  laid  him  with 
highest  honors  in  the  mausoleum  which 
the  Emperor  had  commanded ;  and 
there  he  sleeps,  incorruptible  forever, 
arrayed  in  his  robes  of  state.  Upon 
his  tomb  are  sculptured  the  emblems 
of  his  greatness  and  his  wisdom  and 


The  Return  of  Yen-  Tc kin-King.    103 

his  virtue,  and  the  signs  of  his  office, 
and  the  Four  Precious  Things  :  and  the 
monsters  which  are  holy  symbols  mount 
giant  guard  in  stone  about  it;  and  the 
weird  Dogs  of  Fo  keep  watch  before 
it,  as  before  the  temples  of  the  gods. 


THE   TRADITION    OF   THE  TEA-PLANT. 


SANG  A  CHINESE  HEART,  FOURTEEN  HUNDRED  YKARS 

AGO:  — 
\ 

There  is  Somebody  of  -whom  I  am  thinking. 
Far    away   there    is    Somebody    of  'whom   I  am 
thinking. 

A  hundred  leagues  of  mountains  lie  between  us;  — 
Yet  the  same  Moon  shines  upon  us,  and  the  passing 
Wind  breathes  upon  us  both. 


THE  TRADITION   OF  THE   TEA-PLANT. 


"Good  is  the  continence  of  the  eye; 

Good  is  the  continence  of  the  ear ; 

Good  is  the  continence  of  the  nostrils; 

Good  is  the  continence  of  the  tongue  ; 

Good  is  the  continence  of  the  body  ; 

Good  is  the  continence  of  speech  ; 

Good  is  all.  .  .  ." 

AGAIN  the  Vulture  of  Temptation 
soared  to  the  highest  heaven  of  his 
contemplation,  bringing  his  soul  down, 
down,  reeling  and  fluttering,  back  to  the 
World  of  Illusion.  Again  the  mem 
ory  made  dizzy  his  thought,  like  the 
perfume  of  some  venomous  flower.  Yet 
he  had  seen  the  bayadere  for  an  instant 
only,  when  passing  through  Kasi  upon 
his  way  to  China,  —  to  the  vast  empire 


loS    The  Tradition  of  the  Tea-Plant. 

of  souls  that  thirsted  after  the  refresh 
ment  of  Buddha's  law,  as  sun-parched 
fields  thirst  for  the  life-giving  rain. 
When  she  called  him,  and  dropped  her 
little  gift  into  his  mendicant's  bowl,  he 
had  indeed  lifted  his  fan  before  his  face, 
yet  not  quickly  enough ;  and  the  pen 
alty  of  that  fault  had  followed  him  a 
thousand  leagues,  —  pursued  after  him 
even  into  the  strange  land  to  which 
he  had  come  to  bear  the  words  of  the 
Universal  Teacher.  Accursed  beauty ! 
surely  framed  by  the  Tempter  of  tempt 
ers,  by  Mara  himself,  for  the  perdition 
of  the  just!  Wisely  had  Bhagavat 
warned  his  disciples :  "  O  ye  Qramanas. 
women  are  not  to  be  looked  upon ! 
And  if  ye  chance  to  meet  women,  ye 
must  not  suffer  your  eyes  to  dwell  upon 
them ;  but,  maintaining  holy  reserve, 
speak  not  to  them  at  all.  Then  fail 


The  Tradition  of  the  Tea-Plant.    109 

not  to  whisper  unto  your  own  hearts, 
'  Lo,  we  are  £ramanas,  whose  duty  it 
is  to  remain  uncontaminated  by  the 
corruptions  of  this  world,  even  as  the 
Lotos,  which  suffereth  no  vileness  to 
cling  unto  its  leaves,  though  it  blossom 
amid  the  refuse  of  the  wayside  ditch.' " 
Then  also  came  to  his  memory,  but 
with  a  new  and  terrible  meaning,  the 
words  of  the  Twentieth-and-Third  of 
the  Admonitions :  — 

"  Of  all  attachments  unto  objects  of 
desire,  the  strongest  indeed  is  the  at 
tachment  to  Form.  Happily,  this  pas 
sion  is  unique ;  for  were  there  any 
other  like  unto  it,  then  to  enter  the 
Perfect  Way  were  impossible." 

How,  indeed,  thus  haunted  by  the 
illusion  of  form,  was  he  to  fulfil  the 
vow  that  he  had  made  to  pass  a  night 
and  a  day  in  perfect  and  unbroken 


iio    The  Tradition  of  the  Tea-Plant. 

meditation  ?  Already  the  night  was 
beginning !  Assuredly,  for  sickness  of 
the  soul,  for  fever  of  the  spirit,  there 
was  no  physic  save  prayer.  The  sun- 
•set  was  swiftly  fading  out.  He  strove 
to  pray : — 

"  O  the  "Jewel  in  the  Lotos  / 

"  Even  as  the  tortoise  withdraweth 
its  extremities  into  its  shell,  let  me, 
O  Blessed  One,  withdraw  my  senses 
wholly  into  meditation ! 

"  O  the  Jewel  in  the  Lotos  ! 

"  For  even  as  rain  penetrateth  the 
broken  roof  of  a  dwelling  long  unin 
habited,  so  may  passion  enter  the  soul 
uninhabited  by  meditation. 

"  O  the  Jewel  in  the  Lotos  ! 

"  Even  as  still  water  that  hath  de 
posited  all  its  slime,  so  let  my  soul, 
O  Tathagata,  be  made  pure !  Give 
me  strong  power  to  rise  above  the 


The  Tradition  of  tJie  Tea-Plant.     1 1 1 

world,  O  Master,  even  as  the  wild  bird 
rises  from  its  marsh  to  follow  the  path 
way  of  the  Sun  ! 

"  O  the  Jewel  in  the  Lotos  / 

"  By  day  shineth  the  sun,  by  night 
shineth  the  moon ;  shineth  also  the 
warrior  in  harness  of  war;  shineth  like 
wise  in  meditations  the  Cramana.  But 
the  Buddha  at  all  times,  by  night  or 
by  day,  shineth  ever  the  same,  illumi 
nating  the  world. 

"  O  the  Jewel  in  the  Lotos ! 

"  Let  me  cease,  O  thou  Perfectly 
Awakened,  to  remain  as  an  Ape  in  the 
World-forest,  forever  ascending  and  de 
scending  in  search  of  the  fruits  of  folly. 
Swift  as  the  twining  of  serpents,  vast 
as  the  growth  of  lianas  in  a  forest,  are 
the  all-encircling  growths  of  the  Plant 
of  Desire. 

"  O  the  Jewel  in  the  Lotos  ! " 


1 1 2     The  Tradition  of  the  Tea-Plant. 

Vain  his  prayer,  alas !  vain  also  his 
invocation  !  The  mystic  meaning  of  the 
holy  text  —  the  sense  of  the  Lotos,  the 
sense  of  the  Jewel  —  had  evaporated 
from  the  words,  and  their  monotonous 
utterance  now  served  only  to  lend  more 
dangerous  definition  to  the  memory 
that  tempted  and  tortured  him.  O 
the  jewel  in  her  ear !  What  lotos- 
bud  more  dainty  than  the  folded  flower 
of  flesh,  with  its  dripping  of  diamond- 
fire  !  Again  he  saw  it,  and  the  curve 
of  the  cheek  beyond,  luscious  to  look 
upon  as  beautiful  brown  fruit.  How 
true  the  Two  Hundred  and  Eighty- 
Fourth  verse  of  the  Admonitions!  — 
"  So  long  as  a  man  shall  not  have  torn 
from  his  heart  even  the  smallest  rootlet 
of  that  liana  of  desire  which  draweth 
his  thought  toward  women,  even  so  long 
shall  his  soul  remain  fettered."  And 


The  Tradition  of  the  Tea-Plant,     113 

there  came  to  his  mind  also  the  Three 
Hundred  and  Forty-Fifth  verse  of  the 
same  blessed  book,  regarding  fetters :  . 

"  In  bonds  of  rope,  wise  teachers  have 
said,  there  is  no  strength ;  nor  in  fetters 
of  wood,  nor  yet  in  fetters  of  iron. 
Much  stronger  than  any  of  these  is  the 
fetter  of  concern  for  the  jewelled  earrings 
of  women'' 

"Omniscient  Gotama !  "  he  cried, — 
"  all-seeing  Tathagata !  How  multiform 
the  consolation  of  Thy  Word!  how  mar 
vellous  Thy  understanding  of  the  hu 
man  heart !  Was  this  also  one  of  Thy 
temptations?  —  one  of  the  myriad  illu 
sions  marshalled  before  Thee  by  Mara 
in  that  night  when  the  earth  rocked 
as  a  chariot,  and  the  sacred  trembling 
passed  from  sun  to  sun,  from  system 
to  system,  from  universe  to  universe, 
from  eternity  to  eternity  ?  " 


H4    The  Tradition  of  the  Tea-Plant. 

O  the  jewel  in  her  ear!  The  vi 
sion  would  not  go !  Nay,  each  time  it 
hovered  before  his  thought  it  seemed 
to  take  a  warmer  life,  a  fonder  look,  a 
fairer  form ;  to  develop  with  his  weak 
ness  ;  to  gain  force  from  his  enervation. 
He  saw  the  eyes,  large,  limpid,  soft,  and 
black  as  a  deer's ;  the  pearls  in  the 
dark  hair,  and  the  pearls  in  the  pink 
mouth ;  the  lips  curling  to  a  kiss,  a 
flower-kiss ;  and  a  fragrance  seemed  to 
float  to  his  senses,  sweet,  strange,  sopo 
rific,  —  a  perfume  of  youth,  an  odor  of 
woman.  Rising  to  his  feet,  with  strong 
resolve  he  pronounced  again  the  sacred 
invocation ;  and  he  recited  the  holy 
words  of  the  Chapter  of  Impermanency  : 

"  Gazing  upon  the  heavens  and  upon 
the  earth  ye  must  say,  These  are  not 
permanent.  Gazing  upon  the  moun 
tains  and  the  rivers,  ye  must  say,  These 


The  Tradition  of  the  Tea-Plant.    1 1 5 

are  not  permanent.  Gazing  upon  the 
forms  and  upon  the  faces  of  exterior 
beings,  and  beholding  their  growth  and 
their  development,  ye  must  say,  These 
are  not  permanent? 

And  nevertheless!  how  sweet  illu 
sion!  The  illusion  of  the  great  sun; 
the  illusion  of  the  shadow-casting  hills ; 
the  illusion  of  waters,  formless  and  mul 
tiform  ;  the  illusion  of  —  Nay,  nay  ! 
what  impious  fancy !  Accursed  girl ! 
yet,  yet !  why  should  he  curse  her  ? 
Had  she  ever  done  ought  to  merit 
the  malediction  of  an  ascetic  ?  Never, 
never !  Only  her  form,  the  memory 
of  her,  the  beautiful  phantom  of  her, 
the  accursed  phantom  of  her !  What 
was  she  ?  An  illusion  creating  illu 
sions,  a  mockery,  a  dream,  a  shadow, 
a  vanity,  a  vexation  of  spirit !  The 
fault,  the  sin,  was  in  himself,  in  his 


ii6     The  Tradition  of  the  Tea-Plant. 

rebellious  thought,  in  his  untamed 
memory.  Though  mobile  as  water,  in 
tangible  as  vapor,  Thought,  neverthe 
less,  may  be  tamed  by  the  Will,  may 
be  harnessed  to  the  chariot  of  Wis 
dom  —  must  be !  —  that  happiness  be 
found.  And  he  recited  the  blessed 
verses  of  the  "  Book  of  the  Way  of  the 
Law : " — 

"  All  forms  are  only  temporary'' 
When  this  great  truth  is  fully  com 
prehended  by  any  one,  then  is  he  de 
livered  from  all  pain.  This  is  the  Way 
of  Purification. 

"  All  forms  are  subject  unto  painT 
When  this  great  truth  is  fully  compre 
hended  by  any  one,  then  is  he  delivered 
from  all  pain.  This  is  the  Way  of 
Purification. 

"  All  forms  are  without  substantial 
reality"  When  this  great  truth  is  fully 


The  Tradition  of  the  Tea-Plant.    1 1  7 

comprehended  by  any  one,  then  is  he 
delivered  from  all  pain.  This  is  the 
way  of . . . 

Her  form,  too,  unsubstantial,  unreal, 
an  illusion  only,  though  comeliest  of 
illusions  ?  She  had  given  him  alms ! 
Was  the  merit  of  the  giver  illusive 
also, — :  illusive  like  the  grace  of  the  sup 
ple  fingers  that  gave  ?  Assuredly  there 
were  mysteries  in  the  Abhidharma  im 
penetrable,  incomprehensible  !  ...  It  was 
a  golden  coin,  stamped  with  the  sym 
bol  of  an  elephant,  —  not  more  of  an  il 
lusion,  indeed,  than  the  gifts  of  Kings 
to  the  Buddha  !  Gold  upon  her  bosom 
also,  less  fine  than  the  gold  of  her 
skin.  Naked  between  the  silken  sash 
and  the  narrow  breast  -  corslet,  her 
young  waist  curved  glossy  and  pliant 
as  a  bow.  Richer  the  silver  in  her 


1 1 8    The  Tradition  of  the  Tea-Plant. 

voice  than  in  the  hollow  pagals  that 
made  a  moonlight  about  her  ankles ! 
But  her  smile !  —  the  little  teeth  like 
flower-stamens  in  the  perfumed  blos 
som  of  her  mouth  ! 


O  weakness !  O  shame !  How 
had  tha  strong  Charioteer  of  Resolve 
thus  lost  his  control  over  the  wild 
team  of  fancy !  Was  this  languor  of 
the  Will  a  signal  of  coming  peril,  the 
peril  of  slumber  ?  So  strangely  vivid 
those  fancies  were,  so  brightly  definite, 
as  about  to  take  visible  form,  to  move 
with  factitious  life,  to  play  some  un 
holy  drama  upon  the  stage  of  dreams! 
"  O  Thou  Fully  Awakened !  "  he  cried 
aloud,  "  help  now  thy  humble  disciple 
to  obtain  the  blessed  wakefulness  of 
perfect  contemplation !  let  him  find 
force  to  fulfil  his  vow !  suffer  not 


The  Tradition  of  the  Tea-Plant.     119 

Mara  to  prevail  against  him ! "  And 
he  recited  the  eternal  verses  of  the 
Chapter  of  Wakefulness  :  — 

"  Completely  and  eternally  awake  are 
the  disciples  of  Gotama  !  Unceasingly, 
by  day  and  night,  their  thoughts  are 
fixed  upon  the  Law. 

"  Completely  and  eternally  awake  are 
the  disciples  of  Gotama  !  Unceasingly, 
by  day  and  night,  their  thoughts  are 
fixed  upon  the  Community. 

"  Completely  and  eternally  awake  are 
the  disciples  of  Gotama  !  Unceasingly, 
by  day  and  night,  their  thoughts  are 
fixed  upon  the  Body. 

"  Completely  and  eternally  awake  are 
the  disciples  of  Gotama  !  Unceasingly, 
by  day  and  night,  their  minds  know 
the  sweetness  of  perfect  peace. 

"  Completely  and  eternally  awake  are 
the  disciples  of  Gotama!  Unceasingly, 


I2O    The  Tradition  of  the  Tea-Plant. 

by  day  and  night,  their  minds  enjoy 
the  deep  peace  of  meditation." 

There  came  a  murmur  to  his  ears ;  a 
murmuring  of  many  voices,  smothering 
the  utterances  of  his  own,  like  a  tumult 
of  waters.  The  stars  went  out  before 
his  si^ht;  the  heavens  darkened  their 

O  ' 

infinities:  all  things  became  viewless,  be 
came  blackness  ;  and  the  great  murmur 
deepened,  like  the  murmur  of  a  rising 
tide ;  and  the  earth  seemed  to  sink 
from  beneath  him.  His  feet  no  longer 
touched  the  ground ;  a  sense  of  super 
natural  buoyancy  pervaded  every  fibre 
of  his  body  :  he  felt  himself  floating  in 
obscurity ;  then  sinking  softly,  slowly, 
like  a  feather  dropped  from  the  pin 
nacle  of  a  temple.  Was  this  death  ? 
Nay,  for  all  suddenly,  as  transported 
by  the  Sixth  Supernatural  Power,  he 


The  Tradition  of  the  Tea-Plant.    121 

stood  again  in  light,  —  a  perfumed,  sleepy 
light,  vapory,  beautiful,  —  that  bathed 
the  marvellous  streets  of  some  Indian 
city.  Now  the  nature  of  the  murmur 
became  manifest  to  him ;  for  he  moved 
with  a  mighty  throng,  a  people  of  pil 
grims,  a  nation  of  worshippers.  But 
these  were  not  of  his  faith ;  they  bore 
upon  their  foreheads  the  smeared  sym 
bols  of  obscene  gods  !  Still,  he  could 
not  escape  from  their  midst ;  the  mile- 
broad  human  torrent  bore  him  irresist 
ibly  with  it,  as  a  leaf  is  swept  by  the 
waters  of  the  Ganges.  Rajahs  were 
there  with  their  trains,  and  princes 
riding  upon  elephants,  and  Brahmins 
robed  in  their  vestments,  and  swarms 
of  voluptuous  dancing-girls,  moving  to 
chant  of  kabit  and  damari.  But 
whither,  whither  ?  Out  of  the  city 
into  the  sun  they  passed,  between 


122     The  Tradition  of  the  Tea-Plant. 

avenues    of    banyan,   down    colonnades 
of  palm.     But  whither,  whither  ? 

Blue-distant,  a  mountain  of  carven 
stone  appeared  before  them,  —  the 
Temple,  lifting  to  heaven  its  wilder 
ness  of  chiselled  pinnacles,  flinging 
to  the  sky  the  golden  spray  of  its 
decoration.  Higher  it  grew  with  ap 
proach,  the  blue  tones  changed  to 
gray,  the  outlines  sharpened  in  the 
light.  Then  each  detail  became  visi 
ble  :  the  elephants  of  the  pedestals 
standing  upon  tortoises  of  rock ;  the 
great  grim  faces  of  the  capitals ;  the 
serpents  and  monsters  writhing  among 
the  friezes ;  the  many-headed  gods  of 
basalt  in  their  galleries  of  fretted  niches, 
tier  above  tier  ;  the  pictured  foulnesses, 
the  painted  lusts,  the  divinities  of  abom 
ination.  And,  yawning  in  the  sloping 
precipice  of  sculpture,  beneath  a  fren- 


The   Tradition  of  the  Tea-Plant.    123 

zied  swarming  of  gods  and  Gopia, — 
a  beetling  pyramid  of  limbs  and  bodies 
interlocked,  —  the  Gate,  cavernous  and 
shadowy  as  the  mouth  of  Siva,  de 
voured  the  living  multitude. 

The  eddy  of  the  throng  whirled  him 
with  it  to  the  vastness  of  the  interior. 
None  seemed  to  note  his  yellow  robe, 
none  even  to  observe  his  presence. 
Giant  aisles  intercrossed  their  heights 
above  him  ;  myriads  of  mighty  pillars, 
fantastically  carven,  filed  away  to  in 
visibility  behind  the  yellow  illumina 
tion  of  torch-fires.  Strange  images, 
weirdly  sensuous,  loomed  up  through 
haze  of  incense.  Colossal  figures,  that 
at  a  distance  assumed  the  form  of  ele 
phants  or  garuda-birds,  changed  aspect 
when  approached,  and  revealed  as  the 
secret  of  their  design  an  interplaiting 
of  the  bodies  of  women ;  while  one 


124     The  Tradition  of  the  Tea-Plant. 

divinity  rode  all  the  monstrous  allego 
ries, —  one  divinity  or  demon,  eternally 
the  same  in  the  repetition  of  the  sculp 
tor,  universally  visible  as  though  self- 
multiplied.  The  huge  pillars  themselves 
were  symbols,  figures,  carnalities ;  the 
orgiastic  spirit  of  that  worship  lived  and 
writhed  in  the  contorted  bronze  of  the 
lamps,  the  twisted  gold  of  the  cups, 
the  chiselled  marble  of  the  tanks.  .  .  . 

How  far  had  he  proceeded  ?  He 
knew  not ;  the  journey  among  those 
countless  columns,  past  those  armies 
of  petrified  gods,  down  lanes  of  flick 
ering  lights,  seemed  longer  than  the 
voyage  of  a  caravan,  longer  than  his 
pilgrimage  to  China !  But  suddenly, 
inexplicably,  there  came  a  silence  as 
of  cemeteries ;  the  living  ocean  seemed 
to  have  ebbed  away  from  about  him, 
to  have  been  engulfed  within  abysses  of 


The  Tradition  of  the  Tea-Plant.     125 

subterranean  architecture !  He  found 
himself  alone  in  some  strange  crypt 
before  a  basin,  shell-shaped  and  shallow, 
bearing  in  its  centre  a  rounded  column 
of  less  than  human  height,  whose  smooth 
and  spherical  summit  was  wreathed 
with  flowers.  Lamps  similarly  formed, 
and  fed  with  oil  of  palm,  hung  above 
it.  There  was  no  other  graven  image, 
no  visible  divinity.  Flowers  of  count 
less  varieties  lay  heaped  upon  the  pave 
ment  ;  they  covered  its  surface  like  a 
carpet,  thick,  soft;  they  exhaled  their 
ghosts  beneath  his  feet.  The  perfume 
seemed  to  penetrate  his  brain,  —  a  per 
fume  sensuous,  intoxicating,  unholy  ;  an 
unconquerable  languor  mastered  his 
will,  and  he  sank  to  rest  upon  the 
floral  offerings. 

The  sound  of  a  tread,  light  as  a  whis 
per,  approached  through  the  heavy  still- 


126     The  Tradition  of  the  Tea-Plant. 

ness,  with  a  drowsy  tinkling  of  pagals, 
a  tintinnabulation  of  anklets.  All  sud 
denly  he  felt  glide  about  his  neck  the 
tepid  smoothness  of  a  woman's  arm. 
S/te,  she  !  his  Illusion,  his  Tempta 
tion  ;  but  how  transformed,  transfigured  ! 
—  preternatural  in  her  loveliness,  in 
comprehensible  in  her  charm  !  Deli 
cate  as  a  jasmine-petal  the  cheek  that 
touched  his  own  ;  deep  as  night,  sweet 
as  summer,  the  eyes  that  watched  him. 
"Hearfs-thief"  her  flower-lips  whis 
pered,  —  "  hearf  s-thief,  how  have  I 
sought  for  thee  /  How  have  I  found 
thee  /  Sweets  I  bring  thee,  my  beloved ; 
lips  and  bosom  ;  fruit  and  blossom. 
flast  thirst  ?  Drink  from  the  well  of 
mine  eyes!  Wouldst  sacrifice?  I  am 
thine  altar !  Wouldst  pray  ?  I  am 
thy  God  !  " 

Their  lips  touched ;  her  kiss  seemed 


The  Tradition  of  the  Tea-Plant.    127 

to  change  the  cells  of  his  blood  to 
flame.  For  a  moment  Illusion  tri 
umphed  ;  Mara  prevailed  !  .  .  .  With  a 
shock  of  resolve  the  dreamer  awoke 
in  the  night,  —  under  the  stars  of  the 
Chinese  sky. 

Only  a  mockery  of  sleep !  But  the 
vow  had  been  violated,  the  sacred  pur 
pose  unfulfilled  !  Humiliated,  penitent, 
but  resolved, .  the  ascetic  drew  from 
his  girdle  a  keen  knife,  and  with  un 
faltering  hands  severed  his  eyelids  from 
his  eyes,  and  flung  them  from  him. 
"  O  Thou  Perfectly  Awakened  !  "  he 
prayed,  "  thy  disciple  hath  not  been 
overcome  save  through  the  feebleness 
of  the  body ;  and  his  vow  hath  been 
renewed.  Here  shall  he  linger,  with 
out  food  or  drink,  until  the  moment 
of  its  fulfilment."  And  having  assumed 


128     The  Tradition  of  the  Tea-Plant. 

the  hieratic  posture,  —  seated  himself 
with  his  lower  limbs  folded  beneath 
him,  and  the  palms  of  his  hands  up 
ward,  the  right  upon  the  left,  the  left 
resting  upon  the  sole  of  his  upturned 
foot,  —  he  resumed  his  meditation. 


Dawn  blushed;  day  brightened.  The 
sun  shortened  all  the  shadows  of  the 
land,  and  lengthened  them  again,  and 
sank  at  last  upon  his  funeral  pyre  of 
crimson-burning  cloud.  Night  came 
and  glittered  and  passed.  But  Mara 
had  tempted  in  vain.  This  time  the 
vow  had  been  fulfilled,  the  holy  pur 
pose  accomplished. 

And  again  the  sun  arose  to  fill  the 
world  with  laughter  of  light ;  flowers 
opened  their  hearts  to  him  ;  birds  sang 
their  morning  hymn  of  fire  worship ; 


The  Tradition  of  the  Tea-Plant.    129 

the  deep  forest  trembled  with  delight ; 
and  far  upon  the  plain,  the  eaves  of 
many-storied  temples  and  the  peaked 
caps  of  the  city-towers  caught  aureate 
glory.  Strong  in  the  holiness  of  his 
accomplished  vow,  the  Indian  pilgrim 
arose  in  the  morning  glow.  He  started 
for  amazement  as  he  lifted  his  hands 
to  his  eyes.  What !  was  everything 
a  dream  ?  Impossible !  Yet  now  his 
eyes  felt  no  pain ;  neither  were  they 
lidless ;  not  even  so  much  as  one  of 
their  lashes  was  lacking.  What  marvel 
had  been  wrought  ?  In  vain  he  looked 
for  the  severed  lids  that  he  had  flung 
upon  the  ground ;  they  had  mysteri 
ously  vanished.  But  lo !  there  where 
he  had  cast  them  two  wondrous  shrubs 
were  growing,  with  dainty  leaflets  eye 
lid-shaped,  and  snowy  buds  just  open 
ing  to  the  east. 


130     The  Tradition  of  the  Tez-Plant. 

Then,  by  virtue  of  the  supernatural 
power  acquired  in  that  mighty  medita 
tion,  it  was  given  the  holy  missionary 
to  know  the  secret  of  that  newly  cre 
ated  plant,  —  the  subtle  virtue  of  its 
leaves.  And  he  named  it,  in  the  lan 
guage  of  the  nation  to  whom  he  brought 
the  Lotos  of  the  Good  Law,  "  TE ; " 
and  he  spake  to  it,  saying :  — 

"  Blessed  be  thou,  sweet  plant,  benefi 
cent,  life-giving,  formed  by  the  spirit 
of  virtuous  resolve  !  Lo !  the  fame  of 
thee  shall  yet  spread  unto  the  ends  of 
the  earth ;  and  the  perfume  of  thy 
life  be  borne  unto  the  uttermost  parts 
by  all  the  winds  of  heaven  !  Verily, 
for  all  time  to  come  men  who  drink 
of  thy  sap  shall  find  such  refreshment 
that  weariness  may  not  overcome  them 
nor  languor  seize  upon  them  ;  —  neither 
shall  they  know  the  confusion  of  drow- 


The  Tradition  of  the  Tea-Plant.     131 

siness,  nor  any  desire  for  slumber  in 
the  hour  of  duty  or  of  prayer.  Blessed 
be  thou!" 


# 

* 


And  still,  as  a  mist  of  incense, 
as  a  smoke  of  universal  sacrifice,  per 
petually  ascends  to  heaven  from  all 
the  lands  of  earth  the  pleasant  vapor 
of  TE,  created  for  the  refreshment  of 
mankind  by  the  power  of  a  holy  vow, 
the  virtue  of  a  pious  atonement. 


THE   TALE   OF    THE   PORCELAIN-GOD. 


//  is  -written  in  the  FONG-HO-CHIN-TCH'OUEN, 
that  whenever  the  artist  Th sang- Kong  was  in  doubt, 
he  would  look  into  the  fire  of  the  great  oven  in 
which  his  -vases  were  baking,  and  question  the  Guar 
dian-Spirit  dwelling  in  the  flame.  And  the  Spirit 
of  the  Oven-fires  so  aided  him  with  his  counsels,  that 
the  porcelains  made  by  Thsang-Kong  were  indeed 
finer  and  lovelier  to  look  upon  than  all  other  porce 
lains.  And  they  were  baked  in  the  years  of  Khang- 
%f,  —  sacredly  called  Jin  Houang-ti. 


THE   TALE  OF    THE   PORCELAIN-GOD. 


WHO  first  of  men  discovered  the 
secret  of  the  Kao-ling,  of  the  Pe-tun-tse, 
—  the  bones  and  the  flesh,  the  skeleton 
and  the  skin,  of  the  beauteous  Vase  ? 
Who  first  discovered  the  virtue  of  the 
curd-white  clay  ?  Who  first  prepared 
the  ice-pure  bricks  of  tun :  the  gath- 
ered-hoariness  of  mountains  that  have 
died  for  age ;  blanched  dust  of  the 
rocky  bones  and  the  stony  flesh  of 
sun-seeking  Giants  that  have  ceased  to 
be  ?  Unto  whom  was  it  first  given  to 
discover  the  divine  art  of  porcelain? 

Unto  Pu,  once  a  man,  now  a  god, 
before  whose  snowy  statues  bow  the 


136     The  Tale  of  the  Porcelain-God. 

myriad  populations  enrolled  in  the 
guilds  of  the  potteries.  But  the  place 
of  his  birth  we  know  not ;  perhaps  the 
tradition  of  it  may  have  been  effaced 
from  remembrance  by  that  awful  war 
which  in  our  own  day  consumed  the 
lives  of  twenty  millions  of  the  Black- 
haired  Race,  and  obliterated  from  the 
face  of  the  world  even  the  wonderful 
City  of  Porcelain  itself,  —  the  City  of 
King-te-chin,  that  of  old  shone  like  a 
jewel  of  fire  in  the  blue  mountain- 
girdle  of  Feou-liang. 

Before  his  time  indeed  the  Spirit  of 
the  Furnace  had  being ;  had  issued 
from  the  Infinite  Vitality;  had  become 
manifest  as  an  emanation  of  the  Su 
preme  Tao.  For  Hoang-ti,  nearly  five 
thousand  years  ago,  taught  men  to 
make  good  vessels  of  baked  clay ;  and 
in  his  time  all  potters  had  learned 


The  Tale  of  the  Porcelain-God.     137 

to  know  the  God  of  Oven-fires,  and 
turned  their  wheels  to  the  murmuring 
of  prayer.  But  Hoang-ti  had  been 
gathered  unto  his  fathers  for  thrice 
ten  hundred  years  before  that  man 
was  born  destined  by  the  Master  of 
Heaven  to  become  the  Porcelain-God. 

And  his  divine  ghost,  ever  hovering 
above  the  smoking  and  the  toiling  of 
the  potteries,  still  gives  power  to  the 
thought  of '  the  shaper,  grace  to  the 
genius  of  the  designer,  luminosity  to 
the  touch  of  the  enamellist.  For  by 
his  heaven-taught  wisdom  was  the  art 
of  porcelain  created ;  by  his  inspira 
tion  were  accomplished  all  the  mira 
cles  of  Thao-yu,  maker  of  the  Kia-yu-ki, 
and  all  the  marvels  made  by  those  who 
followed  after  him  ;  — 

All  the  azure  porcelains  called  You- 
kouo-thien-tsing ;  brilliant  as  a  mirror, 


138     The  Tale  of  the  Porcelain-God. 

thin  as  paper  of  rice,  sonorous  as  the 
melodious  stone  Khing,  and  colored, 
in  obedience  to  the  mandate  of  the 
Emperor  Chi-tsong,  "blue  as  the  sky 
is  after  rain,  when  viewed  through  the 
rifts  of  the  clouds."  These  were,  in 
deed,  the  first  of  all  porcelains,  likewise 
called  Tchai-yao,  which  no  man,  how 
soever  wicked,  could  find  courage  to 
break,  for  they  charmed  the  eye  like 
jewels  of  price  ;  — 

And  the  Jou-yao,  second  in  rank 
among  all  porcelains,  sometimes  mock 
ing  the  aspect  and  the  sonority  of 
bronze,  sometimes  blue  as  summer  wa 
ters,  and  deluding  the  sight  with  mucid 
appearance  of  thickly  floating  spawn  of 
fish ;  — 

And  the  Koiian-yao,  which  are  the 
Porcelains  of  Magistrates,  and  third  in 
rank  of  merit  among  all  wondrous 


The  Tale  of  the  Porcelain-God.     139 

porcelains,  colored  with  colors  of  the 
morning,  —  skyey  blueness,  with  the 
rose  of  a  great  dawn  blushing  and  burst 
ing  through  it,  and  long-limbed  marsh- 
birds  flying  against  the  glow; 

Also  the  Ko-yao,  —  fourth  in  rank 
among  perfect  porcelains,  —  of  fair,  faint, 
changing  colors,  like  the  body  of  a 
living  fish,  or  made  in  the  likeness  of 
opal  substance,  milk  mixed  with  fire ; 
the  work  of  Sing-I,  elder  of  the  im 
mortal  brothers  Tchang; 

Also  the  Ting-yao,  —  fifth  in  rank 
among  all  perfect  porcelains,  —  white  as 
the  mourning  garments  of  a  spouse 
bereaved,  and  beautiful  with  a  trickling 
as  of  tears,  —  the  porcelains  sung  of  by 
the  poet  Son-tong-po ; 

Also  the  porcelains  called  Pi-se-yao, 
whose  colors  are  called  "  hidden,"  be 
ing  alternately  invisible  and  visible,  like 


140     The  Tale  of  the  Porcelain-God. 

the  tints  of  ice  beneath  the  sun,  —  the 
porcelains  celebrated  by  the  far-famed 
singer  Sin-in ; 

Also  the  wondrous  Chu-yao,  —  the  pal 
lid  porcelains  that  utter  a  mournful  cry 
when  smitten, — the  porcelains  chanted 
of  by  the  mighty  chanter,Thou-chao-ling; 

Also  the  porcelains  called  Thsin-yao, 
white  or  blue,  surface-wrinkled  as  the 
face  of  water  by  the  fluttering  of  many 
fins.  .  .  .  And  ye  can  see  the  fish ! 

Also  the  vases  called  Tsi-hong-khi,  red 
as  sunset  after  a  rain ;  and  the  T'o-fai- 
khi,  fragile  as  the  wings  of  the  silkworm- 
moth,  lighter  than  the  shell  of  an  egg ; 

Also  the  Kia-tsing,  —  fair  cups  pearl- 
white  when  empty,  yet,  by  some  incom 
prehensible  witchcraft  of  construction, 
seeming  to  swarm  with  purple  fish  the 
moment  they  are  filled  with  water ; 

Also  the  porcelains  called    Yao-pien, 


The  Tale  of  the  Force  lain- God.     141 

whose  tints  are  transmuted  by  the 
alchemy  of  fire  ;  for  they  enter  blood- 
crimson  into  the  heat,  and  change 
there  to  lizard-green,  and  at  last  come 
forth  azure  as  the  cheek  of  the  sky  ; 

Also  the  Ki-tcheou-yao,  which  are  all 
violet  as  a  summer's  night ;  and  the 
Hing-yao  that  sparkle  with  the  spark- 
lings  of  mingled  silver  and  snow ; 

Also  the  Sieouen~yao,  —  some  ruddy 
as  iron  in  the  furnace,  some  diapha 
nous  and  ruby-red,  some  granulated  and 
yellow  as  the  rind  of  an  orange,  some 
softly  flushed  as  the  skin  of  a  peach  ; 

Also  the  Tsoui  khi-yao,  crackled  and 
green  as  ancient  ice  is ;  and  the  Tchou- 
fou-yao,  which  are  the  Porcelains  of 
Emperors,  with  dragons  wriggling  and 
snarling  in  gold ;  and  those  yao  that 
are  pink-ribbed  and  have  their  angles 
serrated  as  the  claws  of  crabs  are ; 


142     The  Tale  of  the  Porcelain-God. 


Also  the  Ou-ni-yao,  black  as  the  pupil 
of  the  eye,  and  as  lustrous;  and  the 
Hou-ticn-yao,  darkly  yellow  as  the  faces 
of  men  of  India;  and  the  Ou-kcng- 
yao,  whose  color  is  the  dead-gold  of 
autumn-leaves ; 

Also  the  Long-kang-yao,  green  as  the 
seedling  of  a  pea,  but  bearing  also 
paintings  of  sun-silvered  cloud,  and  of 
the  Dragons  of  Heaven  ; 

Also  the  Tching-hoa-yao,  —  pictured 
with  the  amber  bloom  of  grapes  and 
the  verdure  of  vine-leaves  and  the  blos 
soming  of  poppies,  or  decorated  in  re 
lief  with  figures  of  fighting  crickets; 

Also  the  Khang-hi-nien-tsang-yao,  ce 
lestial  azure  sown  with  star-dust  of  gold  ; 
and  the  Khien-long-nien-thang-yao,  splen 
did  in  sable  and  silver  as  a  fervid  night 
that  is  flashed  with  lightnings. 

Not   indeed    the    Long-Ouang-yao,  — 


The  Tale  of  the  Porcelain-God.     143 

painted  with  the  lascivious  Pi-hi,  with 
the  obscene  Nan-niu-ss'e-sie,  with  the 
shameful  Tchun-hoa,  or  "  Pictures  of 
Spring:"  abominations  created  by  com 
mand  of  the  wicked  Emperor  Mou- 
tsong,  though  the  Spirit  of  the  Furnace 
hid  his  face  and  fled  away ; 

But  all  other  vases  of  startling  form 
and  substance,  magically  articulated, 
and  ornamented  with  figures  in  relief, 
in  cameo,  in  transparency,  —  the  vases 
with  orifices  belled  like  the  cups  of 
flowers,  or  cleft  like  the  bills  of  birds, 
or  fanged  like  the  jaws  of  serpents,  or 
pink-lipped  as  the  mouth  of  a  girl ;  the 
vases  flesh-colored  and  purple-veined 
and  dimpled,  with  ears  and  with  ear 
rings  ;  the  vases  in  likeness  of  mush 
rooms,  of  lotos-flowers,  of  lizards,  of 
horse-footed  dragons  woman-faced ;  the 
vases  strangely  translucid,  that  s;m- 


144     The  Tale  of  the  Porcelain-God. 

ulate  the  white  glimmering  of  grains 
of  prepared  rice,  that  counterfeit  the 
vapory  lace-work  of  frost,  that  imitate 
the  efflorescences  of  coral ;  — 

Also  the  statues  in  porcelain  of  divin- 
:ties :  the  Genius  of  the  Hearth  ;  the 
Long-pinn  who  are  the  Twelve  Dei- 
ies  of  Ink ;  the  blessed  Lao-tseu,  born 
with  silver  hair ;  Kong-fu-tse.  grasp 
ing  the  scroll  of  written  wisdom ; 
Kouan-in,  sweetest  Goddess  of  Mercy, 
standing  snowy-footed  upon  the  heart 
of  her  golden  lily ;  Chi-nong,  the  god 
who  taught  men  how  to  cook ;  Fo, 
with  long  eyes  closed  in  meditation, 
and  lips  smiling  the  mysterious  smile 
of  Supreme  Beatitude ;  Cheou-lao,  god 
of  Longevity,  bestriding  his  aerial  steed, 
the  white-winged  stork ;  Pou-t'ai,  Lord 
of  Contentment  and  of  Wealth,  obese 
and  dreamy ;  and  that  fairest  Goddess 


The  Tale  of  the  Porcelain-God.    145 

of  Talent,  from  whose  beneficent  hands 
eternally  streams  the  iridescent  rain 
of  pearls. 


#  * 


And  though  many  a  secret  of  that 
matchless  art  that  Pu  bequeathed  unto 
men  may  indeed  have  been  forgotten 
and  lost  forever,  the  story  of  the  Porce 
lain-God  is  remembered  ;  and  I  doubt 
not  that  any  of  the  aged  Jeou-yen- 
liao-kong,  any  one  of  the  old  blind  men 
of  the  great  potteries,  who  sit  all  day 
grinding  colors  in  the  sun,  could  tell 
you  Pu  was  once  a  humble  Chinese 
workman,  who  grew  to  be  a  great 
artist  by  dint  of  tireless  study  and  pa 
tience  and  by  the  inspiration  of  Heav 
en.  So  famed  he  became  that  some 
deemed  him  an  alchemist,  who  pos 
sessed  the  secret  called  White-and-Yel- 


146     The  Tale  of  the  Porcelain-God. 

low,  by  which  stones  might  be  turned 
into  gold ;  and  others  thought  him  a 
magician,  having  the  ghastly  power 
of  murdering  men  with  horror  of  night- 

O  O 

mare,  by  hiding  charmed  effigies  of 
them  under  the  tiles  of  their  own 
roofs ;  and  others,  again,  averred  that 
he  was  an  astrologer  who  had  discov 
ered  the  mystery  of  those  Five  Hing 
which  influence  all  things,  —  those  Pow 
ers  that  move  even  in  the  currents  of 
the  star-drift,  in  the  milky  Ticn-ho,  or 
River  of  the  Sky.  Thus,  at  least,  the 
ignorant  spoke  of  him ;  but  even  those 
who  stood  about  the  Son  of  Heaven, 
those  whose  hearts  had  been  strength 
ened  by  the  acquisition  of  wisdom, 
wildly  praised  the  marvels  of  his  handi 
craft,  and  asked  each  other  if  there 
might  be  any  imaginable  form  of  beauty 
which  Pu  could  not  evoke  from  that 


The  Tale  of  the  Porcelain-God.     147 

beauteous    substance    so   docile    to   the 
touch  of  his  cunning  hand. 

And  one  day  it  came  to  pass  that 
Pu  sent  a  priceless  gift  to  the  Celes 
tial  and  August :  a  vase  imitating  the 
substance  of  ore-rock,  all  aflame  with 
pyritic  scintillation,  —  a  shape  of  glitter 
ing  splendor  with  chameleons  sprawl 
ing  over  it ;  chameleons  of  porcelain 
that  shifted  color  as  often  as  the  be 
holder  changed  his  position.  And  the 
Emperor,  wondering  exceedingly  at 
the  splendor  of  the  work,  questioned  the 
princes  and  the  mandarins  concerning 
him  that  made  it.  And  the  princes 
and  the  mandarins  answered  that  he 
was  a  workman  named  Pu,  and  that 
he  was  without  equal  among  potters, 
knowing  secrets  that  seemed  to  have 
been  inspired  either  by  gods  or  by  de 
mons.  Whereupon  the  Son  of  Heaven 


148     The  Tale  of  the  Porcelain-God. 

sent  his  officers  to  Pu  with  a  noble 
gift,  and  summoned  him  unto  his 
presence. 

So  tire  humble  artisan  entered  be 
fore  the  Emperor,  and  having  per 
formed  the  supreme  prostration,  —  thrice 
kneeling,  and  thrice  nine  times  touch 
ing  the  ground  with  his  forehead,  — 
awaited  the  command  of  the  August. 

And  the  Emperor  spake  to  him,  say 
ing  :  "  Son,  thy  gracious  gift  hath  found 
high  favor  in  our  sight;  and  fcr  the 
charm  of  that  offering  we  have  be 
stowed  upon  thee  a  reward  of  five 
thousand  silver  Hang.  But  thrice  that 

sum   shall  be  awarded  thee  so  soon  as 

• 

thou  shalt  have  fulfilled  our  behest. 
Hearken,  therefore,  O  matchless  artifi 
cer!  it  is  now  our  will  that  thou 
make  for  us  a  vase  having  the  tint  and 
the  aspect  of  living  flesh,  but  —  mark 


The  Tale  of  the  Porcelain-God.     149 

well  our  desire  !  —  of  flesh  made  to  creep 
by  the  utterance  of  such  words  as  poets 
utter, — flesh  moved  by  an  Idea,  flesh  hor- 
ripilated  by  a  Thought!  Obey,  and 
answer  not !  We  have  spoken." 


*  # 


Now  Pu  was  the  most  cunning  of  all 
the  P"1  ei-se-kong,  —  the  men  who  marry 
colors  together ;  of  all  the  Hoa-yang- 
kong,  who  draw  the  shapes  of  vase- 
decoration  ;  of  all  the  Hoei-sse-kong,  who 
paint  in  enamel  ;  of  all  the  Tien- 
thsai-kong,  who  brighten  color;  of  all 
the  Chao-lou-kong,  who  watch  the  fur 
nace-fires  and  the  porcelain-ovens.  But 
he  went  away  sorrowing  from  the  Pal 
ace  of  the  Son  of  Heaven,  notwith 
standing  the  gift  of  five  thousand  silver 
Hang  which  had  been  given  to  him. 
For  he  thought  to  himself:  "Surely 


150     The  Tale  of  the  Porcelain-God. 

the  mystery  of  the  comeliness  of  flesh, 
and  the  mystery  of  that  by  which  it 
is  moved,  are  the  secrets  of  the  Su 
preme  Tao.  How  shall  man  lend  the 
aspect  of  sentient  life  to  dead  clay? 
Who  save  the  Infinite  can  give  soul  ? " 
Now  Pu  had  discovered  those  witch 
crafts  of  color,  those  surprises  of  grace, 
that  make  the  art  of  the  ceramist. 
He  had  found  the  secret  of  the  feng- 
hong,  the  wizard  flush  of  the  Rose ; 
of  the  hoa-hong,  the  delicious  incar 
nadine  ;  of  the  mountain-green  called 
chan-lou ;  of  the  pale  soft  yellow  termed 
hiao-hoang-yeou ;  and  of  the  hoang-kin, 
which  is  the  blazing  beauty  of  gold. 
He  had  found  those  eel-tints,  those  ser 
pent-greens,  those  pansy-violets,  those 
furnace-crimsons,  those  carminates  and 
lilacs,  subtle  as  spirit-flame,  which  our 
enamellists  of  the  Occident  long  sought 


The  Tale  of  the  Porcelain- God.    151 

without  success  to  reproduce.  But  he 
trembled  at  the  task  assigned  him,  as 
he  returned  to  the  toil  of  his  studio, 
saying:  "  How  shall  any  miserable  man 
render  in  clay  the  quivering  of  flesh 
to  an  Idea,  —  the  inexplicable  horripila 
tion  of  a  Thought  ?  Shall  a  man  ven 
ture  to  mock  the  magic  of  that  Eternal 
Moulder  by  whose  infinite  power  a  mil 
lion  suns  are  shapen  more  readily  than 
one  small  jar  might  be  rounded  upon 
my  wheel  ? " 


Yet  the  command  of  the  Celestial 
and  August  might  never  be  disobeyed  ; 
and  the  patient  workman  strove  with 
all  his  power  to  fulfil  the  Son  of 
Heaven's  desire.  But  vainly  for  days, 
for  weeks,  for  months,  for  season  after 
season,  did  he  strive;  vainly  also  he 


152     The  Tale  of  the  Porcelain-God. 

prayed  unto  the  gods  to  aid  him; 
vainly  he  besought  the  Spirit  of  the 
Furnace,  crying:  "O  thou  Spirit  of 
Fire,  hear  me,  heed  me,  help  me !  how 
shall  I,  —  a  miserable  man,  unable  to 
breathe  into  clay  a  living  soul,  —  how 
shall  I  render  in  this  inanimate  sub 
stance  the  aspect  of  flesh  made  to 
creep  by  the  utterance  of  a  Word, 
sentient  to  the  horripilation  of  a 
Thought  ? " 

For  the  Spirit  of  -the  Furnace  made 
strange  answer  to  him  with  whispering 
of  fire :  "  Vast  thy  faith,  weird  thy 
prayer !  Has  Thought  feet,  that  man 
may  perceive  the  trace  of  its  passing? 
Canst  thou  measure  me  the  blast  of  the 

Wind?" 

*  * 

Nevertheless,  with  purpose  unmoved, 
nine-and-forty  times  did  Pu  seek  to  ful- 


The  Tale  of  the  Pircelain-God.     153 

fil  the  Emperor's  command ;  nine-and- 
forty  times  he  strove  to  obey  the  behest 
of  the  Son  of  Heaven.  Vainly,  alas ! 
did  he  consume  his  substance ;  vainly 
did  he  expend  his  strength  ;  vainly  did 
he  exhaust  his  knowledge  :*  success 
smiled  not  upon  him ;  and  Evil  vis 
ited  his  home,  and  Poverty  sat  in  his 
dwelling,  and  Misery  shivered  at  his 
hearth. 

Sometimes,  when  the  hour  of  trial 
came,  it  was  found  that  the  colors  had 
become  strangely  transmuted  in  the 
firing,  or  had  faded  into  ashen  pallor, 
or  had  darkened  into  the  fuliginous 
hue  of  forest-mould.  And  Pu,  behold 
ing  these  misfortunes,  made  wail  to  the 
Spirit  of  the  Furnace,  praying:  "O  thou 
Spirit  of  Fire,  how  shall  I  render  the 
likeness  of  lustrous  flesh,  the  warm  glow 
of  living  color,  unless  thou  aid  me?" 


154     The  Tale  of  f he  Porcelain-God. 

And  the  Spirit  of  the  Furnace  mys 
teriously  answered  him  with  murmuring 
of  fire:  "Canst  thou  learn  the  art  of 
that  Infinite  Enameller  who  hath  made 
beautiful  the  'Arch  of  Heaven,  —  whose 
brush  is  Light;  whose  paints  are  the 
Colors  of  the  Evening  ?  " 

Sometimes,  again,  even  when  the  tints 
had  not  changed,  after  the  pricked  and 
labored  surface  had  seemed  about  to 
quicken  in  the  heat,  to  assume  the 
vibratility  of  living  skin,  —  even  at  the 
last  hour  all  the  labor  of  the  work 
ers  proved  to  have  been  wasted;  for 
the  fickle  substance  rebelled  against 
their  efforts,  producing  only  crinklings 
grotesque  as  those  upon  the  rind  of 
a  withered  fruit,  or  granulations  like 
those  upon  the  skin  of  a  dead  bird 
from  which  the  feathers  have  been 
rudely  plucked.  And  Pu  wept,  and 


The  Tale  of  the  Porcelain-God,     155 

cried  out  unto  the  Spirit  of  the  Fur 
nace  :  "  O  thou  Spirit  of  Flame,  how 
shall  I  be  able  to  imitate  the  thrill  of 
flesh  touched  by  a  Thought,  unless  thou 
wilt  vouchsafe  to  lend  me  thine  aid  ?  " 

And  the  Spirit  of  the  Furnace  mys 
teriously  answered  him  with  mutter 
ing  of  fire:  "  Canst  thon  give  ghost 
unto  a  stone?  Canst  thou  thrill  with 
a  Thought  the  entrails  of  the  granite 
hills  ?  " 

Sometimes  it  was  found  that  all  the 
work  indeed  had  not  failed ;  for  the 
color  seemed  good,  and  all  faultless 
the  matter  of  the  vase  appeared  to 
be,  having  neither  crack  nor  wrink 
ling  nor  crankling;  but  the  pliant  soft 
ness  of  warm  skin  did  not  meet  the 
eye ;  the  flesh-tinted  surface  offered 
only  the  harsh  aspect  and  hard  glim 
mer  of  metal.  All  their  exquisite  toil 


156     The  Tale  of  the  Porcelain-God. 

to  mock  the  pulpiness  of  sentient  sub 
stance  had  left  no  trace ;  had  been 
brought  to  nought  by  the  breath'  of 
the  furnace.  And  Pu,  in  his  despair, 
shrieked  to  the  Spirit  of  the  Furnace  : 
"  O  thou  merciless  divinity !  O  thou 
most  pitiless  god  !  —  thou  whom  I  have 
worshipped  with  ten  thousand  sacri 
fices  !  —  for  what  fault  hast  thou  aban 
doned  me  ?  for  what  error  hast  thou 
forsaken  me  ?  How  may  I,  most 
wretched  of  men !  ever  render  the  as 
pect  of  flesh  made  to  creep  with  the 
utterance  of  a  Word,  sentient  to  the 
titillation  of  a  Thought,  if  thou  wilt 
not  aid  me  ?  " 

And  the  Spirit  of  the  Furnace  made 
answer  unto  him  with  roaring  of  fire  : 
"  Canst  thou  divide  a  Soul  ?  Nay  /  .  .  . 
Thy  life  for  the  life  of  thy  work  !  —  thy 
soul  for  the  soul  of  thy  Vase  !  " 


The  Tale  of  the  Porcelain-God.     157 

And  hearing  these  words  Pu  arose 
with  a  terrible  resolve  swelling  at  his 
heart,  and  made  ready  for  the  last 
and  fiftieth  time  to  fashion  his  work 
for  the  oven. 

One  hundred  times  did  he  sift  the 
clay  and  the  quartz,  the  kao-ling  and 
the  tun;  one  hundred  times  did  he 
purify  them  in  clearest  water ;  one 
hundred  times  with  tireless  hands  did 
he  knead  the  creamy  paste,  mingling 
it  at  last  with  colors  known  only  to 
himself.  Then  was  the  vase  shapen 
and  reshapen,  and  touched  and  re 
touched  by  the  hands  of  Pu,  until 
its  blandness  seemed  to  live,  until  it 
appeared  to  quiver  and  to  palpitate, 
as  with  vitality  from  within,  as  with 
the  quiver  of.  rounded  muscle  undu 
lating  beneath  the  integument.  For 
the  hues  of  life  were  upon  it  and 


158     The  Tale  of  the  Porcelain-God. 

infiltrated  throughout  its  innermost- 
substance,  imitating  the  carnation  of 
blood-bright  tissue,  and  the  reticulated 
purple  of  the  veins ;  and  over  all  was 
laid  the  envelope  of  sun-colored  Pe- 
kia-ho,  the  lucid  and  glossy  enamel, 
half  diaphanous,  even  like  the  sub 
stance  that  it  counterfeited,  —  the  pol 
ished  skin  of  a  woman.  Never  since 
the  making  of  the  world  had  any  work 
comparable  to  this  been  wrought  by 
the  skill  of  man. 

Then  Pu  bade  those  who  aided  him 
that  they  should  feed  the  furnace  well 
with  wood  of  tcha ;  but  he  told  his 
resolve  unto  none.  Yet  after  the  oven 
began  to  glow,  and  he  saw  the  work 
of  his  hands  blossoming  and  blush 
ing  in  the  heat,  he  bowed  himself 
before  the  Spirit  of  Flame,  and  mur 
mured  :  "  O  thou  Spirit  and  Master  of 


The  Tale  of  the  Porcelain-God.     159 

Fire,  I  know  the  truth  of  thy  words! 
I  know  that  a  Soul  may  never  be 
divided !  Therefore  my  life  for  the 
life  of  my  work !  —  my  soul  for  the 
soul  of  my  Vase  !  " 


And  for  nine  days  and  for  eight 
nights  the  furnaces  were  fed  unceas 
ingly  with  wood  of  tcha ;  for  nine 
days  and  for  eight  nights  men  watched 
the  wondrous  vase  crystallizing  into 
being,  rose-lighted  by  the  breath  of 
the  flame.  Now  upon  the  coming  of 
the  ninth  night,  Pu  bade  all  his  weary 
comrades  retire  to  rest,  for  that  the 
work  was  wellnigh  done,  and  the  suc 
cess  assured.  "  If  you  find  me  not 
here  at  sunrise,"  he  said,  "fear  not  to 
take  forth  the  vase ;  for  I  know  that 
the  task  will  have  been  accomplished 


160    The  Tale  of  the  Porcelain-God. 

according  to  the  command  of  the  Au 
gust."  So  they  departed. 

But  in  that  same  ninth  night  Pu 
entered  the  flame,  and  yielded  up  his 
ghost  in  the  embrace  of  the  Spirit 
of  the  Furnace,  giving  his  life  for  the 
life  of  his  work,  —  his  soul  for  the  soul 
of  his  Vase. 

And  when  the  workmen  came  upon 
the  tenth  morning  to  take  forth  the 
porcelain  marvel,  even  the  bones  of 
Pu  had  ceased  to  be ;  but  lo !  the 
Vase  lived  as  they  looked  upon  it : 
seeming  to  be  flesh  moved  by  the 
utterance  of  a  Word,  creeping  to  the 
titillation  of  a  Thought.  And  when 
ever  tapped  by  the  finger  it  uttered 
a  voice  and  a  name,  —  the  voice  of 
its  maker,  the  name  of  its  creator  : 
PU. 


*  * 
* 


The  Tale  of  the  Porcelain-God.     161. 

And  the  Son  of  Heaven,  hearing 
of  these  things,  and  viewing  the  mir 
acle  of  the  vase,  said  unto  those  about 
him :  "  Verily,  the  Impossible  hath 
been  wrought  by  the  strength  of  faith, 
by  the  force  of  obedience  !  Yet  never 
was  it  our  desire  that  so  cruel  a  sac 
rifice  should  have  been ;  we  sought 
only  to  know  whether  the  skill  of  the 
matchless  artificer  came  from  the  Di 
vinities  or  from  the  Demons,  — :  from 
heaven  or  from  hell.  Now,  indeed,  we 
discern  that  Pu  hath  taken  his  place 
among  the  gods."  And  the  Emperor 
mourned  exceedingly  for  his  faithful 
servant.  But  he  ordained  that  god 
like  honors  should  be  paid  unto  the 
spirit  of  the  marvellous  artist,  and  that 
his  memory  should  be  revered  forever- 
more,  and  that  fair  statues  of  him 
should  be  set  up  in  all  the  cities  of 


162     The  Tale  of -the  Porcelain-God. 

the  Celestial  Empire,  and  above  all 
the  toiling  of  the  potteries,  that  the 
multitude  of  workers  might  unceas 
ingly  call  upon  his  name  and  invoke 
his  benediction  upon  their  labors. 


APPENDIX. 


NOTES. 


"  The  Soul  of  the  Great  Bell."  —  The  story  of 
Ko-Ngai  is  one  of  the  collection  entitled  Te-Hiao- 
Tou-C/wue,  or  "A  Hundred  Examples  of  Filial 
Piety."  It  is  very  simply  told  by  the  Chinese 
narrator.  The  scholarly  French  consul,  P.  Dabry 
de  Thiersant,  translated  and  published  in  1877  a 
portion  of  the  book,  including  the  legend  of  the 
Bell.  His  translation  is  enriched  with  a  number 
of  Chinese  drawings ;  and  there  is  a  quaint  little 
picture  of  Ko-Ngai  leaping  into  the  molten 
metal. 

"The  Story  of  Ming- Y" —  The  singular  phan 
tom-tale  upon  which  my  work  is  based  forms  the 
thirty-fourth  story  of  the  famous  collection  Kin- 
Kou-Ki-Koan,  and  was  first  translated  under  the 
title,  "  La  Bacheliere  du  Pays  de  Chu,"  by  the 
learned  Gustave  Schlegel,  as  an  introduction  to 
his  publication  (accompanied  by  a  French  version) 
of  the  curious  and  obscene  Mai-yu-lang-tou-tchen- 


1 66  Notes. 

hoa-kouei  (Leyden,  1877),  which  itself  forms  the 
seventh  recital  of  the  same  work.  Schlegel,  Julien, 
Gardner,  Birch,  D'Entrecolles,  Re'musat,  Pavie,  Oly- 
phant,  Grisebach,  Hervey-Saint-Denys,  and  others, 
have  given  the  Occidental  world  translations  of  eigh 
teen  stories  from  the  Kin-Kou-Ki-Koan  ;  namely, 
Nos.  2,  3,  5,  6,  7,  8,  10,  14,  19,  20,  26,  27,  29,  30, 
31,  34,  35,  and  39.  The  Chinese  work  itself  dates 
back  to  the  thirteenth  century ;  but  as  it  forms  only 
a  collection  of  the  most  popular  tales  of  that  epoch, 
many  of  the  stories  selected  by  the  Chinese  editor 
may  have  had  a  much  more  ancient  origin.  There 
are  forty  tales  in  the  Kin-Kou-Ki-Koan. 

"  The  Legend  of  Tchi-Niu."  —  My  authority  for 
this  tale  is  the  following  legend  from  the  thirty- 
fourth  chapter  of  the  Kan-ing-p'ien,  or  "  Book  of 
Rewards  and  Punishments,"  —  a  work  attributed  to 
Lao-tseu,  which  contains  some  four  hundred  anec 
dotes  and  traditions  of  the  most  curious  kind  :  — 

Tong-yong,  who  lived  under  the  Han  dynasty,  was  re 
duced  to  a  state  of  extreme  poverty.  Having  lost  his 
father,  he  sold  himself  in  order  to  obtain  .  .  .  the  where 
withal  to  bury  him  and  to  build  him  a  tomb.  The  Master 
of  Heaven  took  pity  on  him,  and  sent  the  Goddess  Tchi- 
Niu  to  him  to  become  his  wife.  She  wove  a  piece  of 
silk  for  him  every  day  ui\til  she  was  able  to  buy  his 
freedom,  after  which  she  gave  him  a  son,  and  went  back 
to  heaven. — Julien 's  French  Translation,  p.  119. 


Notes.  167 

Lest  the  reader  should  suppose,  however,  that 
I  have  drawn  wholly  upon  my  own  imagination 
for  the  details  of  the  apparition,  the  cure,  the 
marriage  ceremony,  etc.,  I  refer  him  to  No.  XCVI. 
of  Giles's  "  Strange  Stories  from  a  Chinese  Studio," 
entitled,  "  A  Supernatural  Wife,"  in  which  he 
will  find  that  my  narrative  is  at  least  conforma 
ble  to  Chinese  ideas.  (This  story  first  appeared 
in  "  Harper's  Bazar,"  and  is  republished  here  by 
permission.) 

"  The  Return  of  Yen- Tchin- King."  —There  may 
be  an  involuntary  anachronism  in  my  version  of 
this  legend,  which  is  very  pithily  narrated  in  the 
Kan-ing-p'' icn.  No  emperor's  name  is  cited  by 
the  homilist;  and  the  date  of  the  revolt  seems 
to  have  been  left  wholly  to  conjecture.  —  Baber, 
in  his  "Memoirs,"  mentions  one  of  his  Mongol 
archers  as  able  to  bend  a  two-hundred-pound  bow 
until  the  ears  met. 

"  The  Tradition  of  the  Tea-Plant."  —  My  au 
thority  for  this  bit  of  folklore  is  the  brief  statement 
published  by  Bretschneider  in  the  "  Chinese  Re 
corder  "  for  1871  :  — 

"A  Japanese  legend  says  that  about  A.  D.  519,  a 
Buddhist  priest  came  to  China,  and,  in  order  to  dedicate 
his  soul  entirely  to  God,  he  made  a  vow  to  pass  the  day 
and  night  in  an  uninterrupted  and  unbroken  meditation. 


1 68  Notes. 

After  many  years  of  this  continual  watching,  he  was  at 
length  so  tired  that  he  fell  asleep.  On  awaking  the 
following  morning,  he  was  so  sorry  he  had  broken  his 
vow  that  he  cut  off  both  his  eyelids  and  threw  them 
upon  the  ground.  Returning  to  the  same  place  the  fol 
lowing  day  he  observed  that  each  eyelid  had  become  a 
shrub.  This  was  the  tea-shrub,  unknown  until  that  time." 

Bretschneider  adds  that  the  legend  in  question 
seems  not  to  be  known  to  -the  Chinese  ;  yet  in 
view  of  the  fact  that  Buddhism  itself,  with  all  its 
marvellous  legends,  was  received  by  the  Japanese 
from  China,  it  is  certainly  probable  this  legend 
had  a  Chinese  origin,  —  subsequently  disguised  by 
Japanese  chronology.  My  Buddhist  texts  were 
drawn  from  Fernand  Hu's  translation  of  the  Dham- 
mapada,  and  from  Leon  Peer's  translation  from 
the  Thibetan  of  the  "  Sutra  in  Forty-two  Articles." 
An  Orientalist  who  should  condescend  in  a  rare 
leisure-moment  to  glance  at  my  work  might  also 
discover  that  I  had  borrowed  an  idea  or  two  from 
the  Sanscrit  poet,  Bhamini-Vilasa. 

"The  Tale  of  the  Porcelain-God:'  —  The  good 
Pere  d'Entrecolles,  who  first  gave  to  Europe  the 
secrets  of  Chinese  porcelain- manufacture,  wrote 
one  hundred  and  sixty  years  ago  :  — 

"  The  Emperors  of  China  are,  during  their  lifetime,  the 
most  redoubted  of  divinities ;  and  they  believe  that  noth 
ing  should  ever  stand  in  the  way  of  their  desires.  .  .  . 


Notes.  169 

"It  is  related  that  once  upon  a  time  a  certain  Emperor 
insisted  that  some  porcelains  should  be  made  for  him 
according  to  a  model  which  he  gave.  It  was  answered 
that  the  thing  was  simply  impossible ;  but^  all  such  re 
monstrances  only  served  to  excite  his  desire  more  and 
more.  .  .  .  The  officers  charged  by  the  demigod  to  super 
vise  and  hasten  the  work  treated  the  workmen  with  great 
harshness.  The  poor  wretches  spent  all  their  money, 
took  exceeding  pains,  and  received  only  blows  in  return. 
One  of  them,  in  a  fit  of  despair,  leaped  into  the  blazing 
furnace,  and  was  instantly  burnt  to  ashes.  But  the  porce 
lain  that  was  being  baked  there*  at  the  time  came  out, 
they  say,  perfectly  beautiful  and  to  the  satisfaction  of  the 
Emperor.  .  .  .  From  that  time,  the  unfortunate  workman 
was  regarded  as  a  hero ;  and  his  image  was  made  the  idol 
which  presides  over  the  manufacture  of  porcelain." 

It  appears  that  D'Entrecolles  mistook  the  statue 
of  Pou't'ai,  God  of  Comfort,  for  that  of  the  real 
porcelain-deity,  as  Jacquemart  and  others  observe. 
This  error  does  not,  however,  destroy  the  beauty 
of  the  myth ;  and  there  is  no  good  reason  to  doubt 
that  D'Entrecolles  related  it  as  it  had  been  told 
him  by  some  of  his  Chinese  friends  at  King- 
te-chin.  The  researches  of  Stanislas  Julien  and 
others  have  only  tended  to  confirm  the  trustwor 
thiness  of  the  Catholic  missionary's  statements  in 
other  respects ;  and  both  Julien  and  Salvdtat,  in 
their  admirable  French  rendering  of  the  King-te- 
chin-thao-lou,  "  History  of  the  Porcelains  of  King- 
te-chin  "  (a  work  which  has  been  of  the  greatest 


1 70  Notes. 

service  to  me  in  the  preparation  of  my  little  story), 
quote  from  his  letters  at  considerable  length,  and 
award  him  the  highest  praise  as  a  conscientious 
investigator.  So  far  as  I  have  been  able  to  learn, 
D'Entrecolles  remains  the  sole  authority  for  the 
myth  ;  but  his  affirmations  in  regard  to  other  mat 
ters  have  withstood  the  severe  tests  of  time  aston 
ishingly  well;  and  since  the  Tai-ping  rebellion 
destroyed  King-te-chin  and  paralyzed  its  noble 
industry,  the  value  of  the  French  missionary's 
documents  and  testimony  has  become  widely  rec 
ognized.  In  lieu  of  any  other  name  for  the  hero  of 
the  legend,  I  have  been  obliged  to  retain  that  of 
Pou,  or  Pu,  —  only  using  it  without  the  affix  "  t'ai," 
—  so  as  to  distinguish  it  from  the  deity  of  comfort 
and  repose. 


GLOSSARY. 


GLOSSARY. 


ABHIDHARMA.  —  The  metaphysics  of  Buddhism. 
Buddhist  literature  is  classed  into  three  great 
divisions,  or  "  baskets ;  "  the  highest  of  these  is 
the  Abhidharma.  .  .  .  According  to  a  passage  in 
Spence  Hardy's  "  Manual  of  Buddhism,"  the 
full  comprehension  of  the  Abhidharma  is  pos 
sible  only  for  a  Buddha  to  acquire. 

CHIH.  —  "  House  ;  "  but  especially  the  house  of 
the  dead,  —  a  tomb. 

CHU-SHA-KIH.  — The  mandarin-orange. 

QRAMANA.  —  An  ascetic ;  one  who  has  subdued  his 
senses.  For  an  interesting  history  of  this  term, 
see  Burnouf,  —  "  Introduction  &  1'histoire  du 
Buddhisme  Indien." 

DAMARI.  —  A  peculiar  chant,  o/  somewhat  licen 
tious  character,  most  commonly  sung  during  the 
period  of  the  Indian  carnival.  For  an  account, 


1 74  Glossary. 

at  once  brief  and  entertaining,  of  Hindoo  popu 
lar  songs  and  hymns,  see  Garcin  de  Tassy,  — 
"Chants  populaires  de  1'Inde." 

DOGS  OF  Fo.  —  The  Dog  of  Fo  is  one  of  those 
fabulous  monsters  in  the  sculptural  representa 
tion  of  which  Chinese  art  has  found  its  most  gro 
tesque  expression.  It  is  really  an  exaggerated 
lion ;  and  the  symbolical  relation  of  the  lion  to 
Buddhism  is  well  known.  Statues  of  these 
mythical  animals — sometimes  of  a  grandiose  and 
colossal  execution  —  are  placed  in  pairs  before 
the  entrances  of  temples,  palaces,  and  tombs, 
as  tokens  of  honor,  and  as  emblems  of  divine 
protection. 

Fo.  —  Buddha  is  called  Fo,  Fuh,  Fuh-tu,  Hwut, 
Fat,  in  various  Chinese  dialects.  The  name  is 
thought  to  be  a  corruption  of  the  Hindoo  Bodh, 
or  "Truth,"  due  to  the  imperfect  articulation 
of  the  Chinese.  .  .  .  It  is  a  curious  fact  that  the 
Chinese  Buddhist  liturgy  is  Sanscrit  transliterated 
into  Chinese  characters,  and  that  the  priests  have 
lost  all  recollection  of  the  antique  tongue,  — 
repeating  the  texts  without  the  least  compre 
hension  of  their  meaning. 

FUH-YIN.  —  An  official  holding  in  Chinese  cities  a 
position  corresponding  to  that  of  mayor  in  the 
Occident. 


Glossary.  175 

FUNG-HOANG.  —  This  allegorical  bird,  correspond 
ing  to  the  Arabian  phoenix  in  some  respects, 
is  described  as  being  five  cubits  high,  having 
feathers  of  five  different  colors,  and  singing  in 
five  modulations.  .  .  .  The  female  is  said  to 
sing  in  imperfect  tones;  the  male  in  perfect 
tones.  The  fung-hoang  figures  largely  in  Chi 
nese  musical  myths  and  legends. 

GOPIA  (or  GOPIS).  —  Daughters  and  wives  of  the 
cowherds  of  Vrindavana,  among  whom  Krishna 
was  brought  up  after  his  incarnation  as  the  eighth 
avatar  of  Vishnu.  Krishna's  amours  with  the 
shepherdesses,  or  Gopia,  form  the  subject  of  vari 
ous  celebrated  mystical  writings,  especially  the 
Prem-Sdgar,  or  "  Ocean  of  Love "  (translated 
by  Eastwick  and  by  others)  ;  and  the  sensuous 
Gita-Govinda  of  the  Bengalese  lyric  poet  Jaya- 
deva  (translated  into  French  prose  by  Hippolyte 
Fauche,  and  chastely  rendered  into  English 
verse  by  Edwin  Arnold  in  the  "  Indian  Song  of 
Songs  ").  See  also  Burnouf  s  partial  translation 
of  the  Bhagavata  Purana,  and  Theodore  Pavie's 
"  Krichna  et  sa  doctrine."  .  .  .  The  same  theme 
has  inspired  some  of  the  strangest  productions  of 
Hindoo  art :  for  examples,  see  plates  65  and  66 
of  Moor's  "Hindoo  Pantheon"  (edition  of  1861). 
For  accounts  of  the  erotic  mysticism  connected 


1 76  Glossary. 

with  the  worship  of  Krishna  and  the  Gopia,  the 
reader  may  also  be  referred  to  authorities  cited  in 
Earth's  "  Religions  of  India  ; "  De  Tassy's  "  Chants 
populaires  de  1'Inde  ;"  and  Lamairesse's  "Poesies 
populaires  du  Sud  de  1'Inde." 

HAO-KHIEOU-TCHOUAN.  —  This  celebrated  Chinese 
novel  was  translated  into  French  by  M.  Guillard 
d'Arcy  in  1842,  and  appeared  under  the  title, 
"  Hao-Khieou-Tchouan  ;  ou,  La  Femme  Accom- 
plie."  The  first  translation  of  the  romance  into 
any  European  tongue  was  a  Portuguese  render 
ing  ;  and  the  English  version  of  Percy  is  based 
upon  the  Portuguese  text.  The  work  is  rich  in 
poetical  quotations. 

HEI-SONG-CHE-TCHOO.  —  "  One  day  when  the  Em 
peror  Hiuan-tsong  of  the  Thang  dynasty,"  says 
the  Tao-kia-ping-yu-che,  "  was  at  work  in  his 
study,  a  tiny  Taoist  priest,  no  bigger  than  a  fly, 
rose  out  of  the  inkstand  lying  upon  his  table, 
and  said  to  him  :  '  I  am  the  Genius  of  Ink  ;  my 
name  is  Hei'-song-ch^-tchoo  [Envoy  of  the  Black 
Fir\;  and  I  have  come  to  tell  you  that  when 
ever  a  true  sage  shall  sit  down  to  write,  the 
Twelve  Divinities  of  Ink  \Long-pinn\  will  appear 
upon  the  surface  of  the  ink  he  uses.'  "  See 
"  L'Encre  de  Chine,"  by  Maurice  Jametel. 
Paris,  1882. 


Glossary.  177 

HOA-TCHAO.  —  The  "  Birthday  of  a  Hundred  Flow 
ers  "  falls  upon  the  fifteenth  of  the  second  spring- 
moon. 

JADE.  —  Jade,  or  nephrite,  a  variety  of  jasper,  — 
called  by  the  Chinese  yuh,  —  has  always  been 
highly  valued  by  them  as  artistic  material.  .  .  . 
In  the  "  Book  of  Rewards  and  Punishments," 
there  is  a  curious  legend  to  the  effect  that  Con 
fucius,  after  the  completion  of  his  Hiao-King 
("  Book  of  Filial  Piety  "),  having  addressed  him 
self  to  Heaven,  a  crimson  rainbow  fell  from  the 
sky,  and  changed  itself  at  his  feet  into  a  piece 
of  yellow  jade.  See  Stanislas  Julien's  translation, 

P-  495- 

KABIT.  —  A  poetical  form  much  in  favor  with  com 
posers  of  Hindoo  religious  chants  :  the  kabit 
always  consists  of  four  verses. 

KAO-LING.  —  Literally,  "the  High  Ridge,"  and  origi 
nally  the  name  of  a  hilly  range  which  furnished 
the  best  quality  of  clay  to  the  porcelain- makers. 
Subsequently  the  term  applied  by  long  custom  to 
designate  the  material  itself  became  corrupted 
into  the  word  now  familiar  in  all  countries,  — 
kaolin.  In  the  language  of  the  Chinese  potters, 
the  kaolin,  or  clay,  was  poetically  termed  the 
"bones,"  and  the  tun,  or  quartz,  the  "flesh"  of 
the  porcelain ;  while  the  prepared  bricks  of  the 


1 78  Glossary. 

combined  substances  were  known  as  pe-tun-tse. 
Both  substances,  the  infusible  and  the  fusible,  are 
productions  of  the  same  geological  formation,  — 
decomposed  feldspathic  rock. 

KASI  (or  VARANASI).  —  Ancient  name  of  Benares, 
the  "Sacred  City,"  believed  to  have  been  founded 
by  the  gods.  It  is  also  called  "  The  Lotos  of  the 
World."  Earth  terms  it  "  the  Jerusalem  of  all 
the  sects  both  of  ancient  and  modern  India."  It 
still  boasts  two  thousand  shrines,  and  half  a  mil 
lion  images  of  divinities.  See  also  Sherring's 
"Sacred  City  of  the  Hindoos." 

KIANG-KOU-JIN. —  Literally,  the  "  tell-old-story-men." 
For  a  brief  account  of  Chinese  professional  story 
tellers,  the  reader  may  consult  Schlegel's  enter 
taining  introduction  to  the  Mai-yu-lang-toti-tchen- 
hoa-koue'i. 

KIN.  —  The  most  perfect  of  Chinese  musical  instru 
ments,  also  called  "  the  Scholar's  Lute."  The 
word  kin  also  means  "  to  prohibit ; "  and  this 
name  is  said  to  have  been  given  to  the  instru 
ment  because  music,  according  to  Chinese  belief, 
"  restrains  evil  passions,  and  corrects  the  human 
heart."  See  Williams's  "  Middle  Kingdom." 

KOUEI. — Kouei,  musician  to  the  Emperor  Yao,  must 
have  held  his  office  between  2357  and  2277  B.  c. 
The  extract  selected  from  one  of  his  songs,  which 


Glossary.  1 79 

I  have  given  at  the  beginning  of  the  "  Story  of 
Ming-Y,"  is  therefore  more  than  four  thousand 
years  old.  The  same  chant  contains  another 
remarkable  fancy,  evidencing  Chinese  faith  in 
musical  magic  :  — 

"When  I  smite  my  [musical]  stone, — 
Be  it  gently,  be  it  strongly,  — 

Then  do  the  fiercest  beasts  of  prey  leap  high  for  joy, 
And  the  chiefs  among  the  public  officials  do  agree  among 
themselves." 

KWANG-CHAU-FU. —  Literally,  "The  Broad  City,"  — 
the  name  of  Canton.  It  is  also  called  "  The  City 
of  Genii." 

Li.  —  A  measure  of  distance.  The  length  of  the  li 
has  varied  considerably  in  ancient  and  in  modern 
times.  The  present  is  given  by  Williams  as  ten 
//  to  a  league. 

LI-SAO.  —  "  The  Dissipation  of  Grief,"  one  of  the 
most  celebrated  Chinese  poems  of  the  classic 
period.  It  is  said  to  have  been  written  about 
314  B.  c.,  by  Kiu-ping-youen,  minister  to  the 
King  of  Tsou.  Finding  himself  the  victim  of  a 
base  court-intrigue,  Kiu-ping  wrote  the  Li- Sao 
as  a  vindication  of  his  character,  and  as  a  rebuke 
to  the  malice  of  his  enemies,  after  which  he  com 
mitted  suicide  by  drowning.  ...  A  fine  French 
translation  of  the  Li-Sao  has  been  made  by  the 
Marquis  Hervey  de  Saint-Denys  (Paris,  1870). 


1 80  Glossary. 

LI-SHU. — The  second  of  the  six  styles  of  Chinese 
writing,  for  an  account  of  which  see  Williams's 
"  Middle  Kingdom."  .  .  .  According  to  various 
Taoist  legends,  the  decrees  of  Heaven  are  re 
corded  in  the  "  Seal-character,"  the  oldest  of  all ; 
and  marks  upon  the  bodies  of  persons  killed  by 
lightning  have  been  interpreted  as  judgments 
written  in  it.  The  following  extraordinary  tale 
from  the  Kan-ing-p' ien  affords  a  good  example 
of  the  superstition  in  question  :  — 

Tchang-tchun  was  Minister  of  State  under  the  reign  of 
Hoei'-tsong,  of  the  Song  dynasty.  He  occupied  himself 
wholly  in  weaving  perfidious  plots.  He  died  in  exile  at 
Mo-tcheou.  Some  time  after,  while  the  Emperor  was  hunt 
ing,  there  fell  a  heavy  rain,  which  obliged  him  to  seek 
shelter  in  a  poor  man's  hut.  The  thunder  rolled  with 
violence;  and  the  lightning  killed  a  man,  a  woman,  and  a 
little  boy.  On  the  backs  of  the  man  and  woman  were  found 
red  characters,  which  could  not  be  deciphered ;  but  on 
the  back  of  the  little  boy  the  following  six  words  could  be 
read,  written  in  Tchouen  (antigiit)  characters:  T  ;">!•: -TCII'IN- 
TCHANG-TCHUN-HEOU-CHIN,  —  which  mean  :  "  Child  of  the 
issue  of  Tchang-tchun,  who  was  a  rebellious  subject."  —  Le 
Livre  dfs  Recompenses  et  dcs  Peines,  tradnit  far  Stanislas 
Jiil ten ',  p.  446. 

PAGAL.  —  The  ankle-ring  commonly  worn  by  Hin 
doo  women  ;  it  is  also  called  nupur.  It  is  hollow, 
and  contains  loose  bits  of  metal,  which  tinkle 
when  the  foot  is  moved. 


Glossary.  1 8 1 

SAN-HIEN.  —  A  three-stringed  Chinese  guitar.  Its 
belly  is  usually  covered  with  snake-skin. 

SIU-FAN-TI.  —  Literally,  "  the  Sweeping  of  the 
Tombs,"  —  the  day  of  the  general  worship  of  an 
cestors;  the  Chinese  "All-Souls'."  It  falls  in  the 
early  part  of  April,  the  period  called  tsing-ming. 

TA-CHUNG  sz'.  —  Literally,  "  Temple  of  the  Bell." 
The  building  at  Pekin  so  named  covers  prob 
ably  the  largest  suspended  bell  in  the  world, 
cast  in  the  reign  of  Yong-lo,  about  1406  A.  D., 
and  weighing  upwards  of  120,000  pounds. 

TAG.  —  The  infinite  being,  or  Universal  Life,  whence 
all  forms  proceed  :  Literally,  "  the  Way,"  in  the 
sense  of  the  First  Cause.  Lao-tseu  uses  the 
term  in  other  ways ;  but  that  primal  and  most 
important  philosophical  sense  which  he  gave  to 
it  is  well  explained  in  the  celebrated  Chapter 
XXV.  of  the  Tao-tc-king.  .  .  .  The  difference 
between  the  great  Chinese  thinker's  conception 
of  the  First  Cause,  —  the  Unknowable,  —  and 
the  theories  of  other  famous  metaphysicians, 
Oriental  and  Occidental,  is  set  forth  with  some 
definiteness  in  Stanislas  Julien's  introduction  to 
the  Tao-te-king,  pp.  x-xv.  ("  Le  Livre  de  la 
Voie  et  de  la  Vertu."  Paris,  1842.) 

THANG.  —  The  Dynasty  of  Thang,  which  flour 
ished  between  620  and  907  A.  D.,  encouraged 


1 82  Glossary. 

literature  and  art,  and  gave  to  China  its  most 
brilliant  period.  The  three  poets  of  the  Thang 
dynasty  mentioned  in  the  second  story  flour 
ished  between  779  and  852  A.  D. 

"THREE  COUNCILLORS."  —  Six  stars  of  the  Great- 
Bear  constellation  (IK  —  A/x  —  vf),  as  apparently 
arranged  in  pairs,  are  thus  called  by  the  Chi 
nese  astrologers  and  mythologists.  The  three 
couples  are  further  distinguished  as  the  Supe 
rior  Councillor,  Middle  Councillor,  and  Inferior 
Councillor;  and,  together  with  the  Genius  of 
the  Northern  Heaven,  form  a  celestial  tribunal, 
presiding  over  the  duration  of  human  life,  and 
deciding  the  course  of  mortal  destiny.  (Note  by 
Stanislas  Julien  in  "  Le  Livre  des  Recompenses 
et  des  Peines.") 

TIEN-HIA.  —  Literally,  "  Under-Heaven,"  or  "  Be- 
neath-the-Sky,"  • —  one  of  the  most  ancient  of 
those  many  names  given  by  the  Chinese  to  China. 
The  name  "  China"  itself  is  never  applied  by  the 
Black-haired  Race  to  their  own  country,  and  is 
supposed  to  have  had  its  origin  in  the  fame  of 
the  first  Tsin  dynasty,  whose  founder  Tsin  Chf- 
Houang-ti,  built  the  Great,  or  "Myriad-Mile," 
Wall,  twenty-two  and  a  half  degrees  of  latitude  in 
length.  .  .  .  See  Williams  regarding  occurrence 
of  the  name  "  China  "  in  Sanscrit  literature. 


Glossary.  183 

TSIEN.  —  The  well-known  Chinese  copper  coin, 
with  a  square  hole  in  the  middle  for  stringing,  is 
thus  named.  According  to  quality  of  metal  it 
takes  from  900  to  1,800  tsien  to  make  one  silver 
dollar. 

TSING- JIN. —  "Men  of  Tsing."  From  very  ancient 
times  the  Chinese  have  been  wont  to  call  them 
selves  by  the  names  of  their  famous  dynasties,  — 
If  an -j in,  "  the  men  of  Han  ;  "  Thang-jin,  "  the 
men  of  Thang,"  etc.  Ta  Tsing  Kwoh  ("  Great 
Pure  Kingdom  ")  is  the  name  given  by  the  pres 
ent  dynasty  to  China,  —  according  to  which  the 
people  might  call  themselves  Tsing-jin,  or  "  men 
of  Tsing."  Williams,  however,  remarks  that  they 
will  not  yet  accept  the  appellation. 

VERSES  (CHINESE). — The  verses  preceding  "The 
Legend  of  Tchi-Niu  "  afford  some  remarkable 
examples  of  Chinese  onomatopoeia.  They  occur 
in  the  sixth  strophe  of  Mien-mien,  which  is  the 
third  chant  of  the  first  section  of  Ta-ya,  the 
Third  Book  of  the  Chi-King.  (See  G.  Pauthier's 
French  version.)  Dr.  Legge  translates  the  strophe 
thus  :  — 

.  .  .  Crowds  brought  the  earth  in  baskets ;  they  threw 
it  with  shouts  into  the  frames  ;  they  beat  it  with  responsive 
blows ;  they  pared  the  walls  repeatedly  till  they  sounded 
strong.  —  Sacred  Books  of  the  East;  Vol.  III.,  The  She- 
King,  p.  384. 


1 84  Glossary. 

Pauthier  translates  the  verses  somewhat  differently ; 
preserving  the  onomatopoeia  in  three  of  the  lines. 
Ho&ng-ho&ng  are  the  sounds  heard  in  the  timber- 
yards  where  the  wood  is  being  measured ;  from 
the  workshops  of  the  builders  respond  the  sounds 
of  tdng-tdng;  and  the  solid  walls,  when  fully  fin 
ished  off,  give  out  the  sound  of pvig-pvig. 

YAO.  —  "Porcelain."  The  reader  who  desires  de 
tailed  information  respecting  the  technology,  his 
tory,  or  legends  of  Chinese  porcelain-manufacture, 
should  consult  Stanislas  Julien's  admirable  "  His- 
toire  de  la  Porcelaine  Chinoise  "  (Paris,  1856). 
With  some  trifling  exceptions,  the  names  of  the 
various  porcelains  cited  in  my  "  Tale  of  the  Por- 
lain-God "  were  selected  from  Julien's  work. 
Though  oddly  musical  and  otherwise  attractive  in 
Chinese,  these  names  lose  interest  by  translation. 
The  majority  of  them  merely  refer  to  centres  of 
manufacture  or  famous  potteries  :  Chou-yao, 
"  porcelains  of  Chou  ;  "  Hong-tcheou-yao,  "  por 
celains  of  Hong-tcheou  ;  "  Jou-yao,  "  porcelains 
of  Jou-tcheou ; "  Ting-yao,  "porcelains  of  Ting- 
tcheou ; "  Ko-yao,  "  porcelains  of  the  Elder 
Brother  [Thsang]  ;  "  Khang-hi-nien-fsang-yao, 
"  porcelains  of  Thsang  made  in  the  reign  of 
Khang-hi."  Some  porcelains  were  distinguished 
by  the  names  of  dynasties,  or  the  titles  of  civic 


Glossary.  185 

office  holders ;  such  as  the  celebrated  TcJi'ai- 
yao,  "the  porcelains  of  Tch'ai "  (which  was  the 
name  of  the  family  of  the  Emperor  Chi-tsong) ; 
and  the  Kouan-yao,  or  "  Porcelains  of  Magis 
trates."  Much  more  rarely  the  names  refer  di 
rectly  to  the  material  or  artistic  peculiarity  of 
porcelains,  —  as  Ou-ni-yao,  the  "  black-paste 
porcelains,"  or  Pi-se-yao,  the  "  porcelains  of 
hidden  color."  The  word  khi,  sometimes  sub 
stituted  for  yao  in  these  compound  names,  means 
"  vases ; "  as  Jou-khi,  "  vases  of  Jou-tcheou ;  " 
Kouan-khi,  "  vases  for  Magistrates." 


University  Press  :  John  Wilson  &  Son,  Cambridge. 


University  of  California 

SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

405  Hilgard  Avenue,  Los  Angeles,  CA  90024-1388 

Return  this  material  to  the  library 

from  which  it  was  borrowed. 


A     000  678  547     1 


